


i can't use words they don't say enough

by demiboyharrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Dry Humping, Friends to Lovers, Harry Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Kid Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Physical Disability, Post-World War II, Single Parent Louis, Smut, Top Louis, Veteran Harry, minor period-typical homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:16:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiboyharrie/pseuds/demiboyharrie
Summary: Harry enlists at 16 to fight in World War II, leaving behind his family and the love of his life. When the war ends he finds himself back in the small town he called home. Five years has passed, and nothing is the same. His family has moved away and Louis has a daughter. Can they salvage their relationship, or will the effects of the war be too much?Louis couldn’t believe his eyes, and yet there on the other side of this hunk of wood was Harry Styles, the boy he’d written off as dead years ago.





	i can't use words they don't say enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LunaDiviners](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaDiviners/gifts).



> heyo here's a fic. this is for lunadiviners who gave me some sick prompts, but bc i am a sucker for world war 2 history, this is the one i chose.  
> i'd like to just say that this was a labor of love that i am extremely proud of. i've never published something this long so hopefully it's up to snuff.  
> also i'd like to thank [ryan](http://aceniall.tumblr.com/) for being the best cheerleader and helping me talk shop. the plot would not be nearly as put together without ur impeccable insight. also thank u for bein a bombass beta i a-pee-cee-ate it bb.  
> i'd also like to thank [zay](https://reecekinqs.tumblr.com/) for doing such a bangup job on betaing and britpicking this monster. without u this fic would probably be at least 50% more american and full of lil parts that aren't period-typical.  
> the links in the fic take u to a doc with definitions and information for u to peruse at ur leisure.  
> without further ado here's my beautiful baby.

Sleeping was a difficult thing, had been for years now, and Harry wasn’t exactly sure he’d ever get a decent night's worth.

He’d woken with a start, sweat dampening the sheets below him, thrashing through the feeling of gunshots grazing by him. By the time he’d realized it was just a dream, a nurse had already arrived to sedate him. As she was preparing to inject the needle into his arm, a uniformed man arrived with a stack of official looking paperwork. He shooed her off with a dismissive air and turned to Harry.

“Private Styles, of the 3rd Infantry?” The officer asked, watching as Harry began to lift himself into an upright sitting position.

“Yes, sir?” Harry replied.

“We’ve got your discharge papers here, son. The Kin is letting you go, gotta pack.” The man handed him said papers, before reaching into his back pockets. “Here, before you leave, head over to the mail room. I think Jonesy’s got some letters for you.”

Harry nodded along, thanking the officer, before the man walked away. Without much thought, Harry began to shift his hips so that his remaining leg was hanging off the side of his cot. He reached over, easily grasping onto his prosthetic leg.

When he’d first woken up after D-Day, he hadn’t even realized anything was wrong. He’d been chatting with the pretty nurse until he felt a sharp pain in his left leg. With a loud yelp of pain, his eyes panned down to the source of the pain. Somehow the bottom half of his leg had disappeared. It was like some kind of sick street corner magic act, and he’d glanced back over to the nurse his face stricken with disbelief.

The nurse had been kind enough, explaining to him that he was lucky to still have his life. The doctors had almost lost him from all the bleeding his wounded leg had caused. Apparently it had been shattered from a fall that knocked him out. The nurse saved him the gruesome details only to say that there was no way to salvage the leg. It had been amputated in order to prevent infection.

That was two years ago now, long enough for him to get used to his missing limb and even so, he sometimes still felt the lingering ache it had left behind.

The prosthetic made it easier to walk, though his gait was still a bit altered from what it had been before. The leg was made of a shiny aluminium-like material that was a vast improvement from the wooden legs of a few decades previous.

After strapping the remaining half of his leg into his new leg, he reached for his cane. With a great deal of care Harry began to head over to the mailroom, his discharge papers clasped tight in his hand as he ambled towards his destination.

He waved to the other injured men around him. Some had been in his infantry, others were in the 50th, but all of the men here had been casualties at Normandy. Harry still wasn’t sure how they had managed to defeat the Nazis, but the U.S. had already dropped the bombs a year prior ending the war. Now it was just another blip in the history books.

Walking into the post room, Harry leaned up against the wall to conserve energy. He’d spent many an hour waiting for letters from Jonesy in this room. None had ever come, not from his family, not from his friends in Doncaster, and certainly not from his Louis. He’d sent home so many [ behavior reports](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.mfrrf97c6rjp), but somehow he’d never gotten any response, and he worried maybe Louis had moved onto better things, or worse, had been drafted into this hell of a war. That was something Harry could not, _would not_ , consider.

Louis was probably just fine. He’d be happily working as a professor at a nearby university, like he’d always dreamed. He had probably bought a small home for them to share once Harry made it back. A white picket fence lining their modest yard, with a sweet puppy barking happily at passersby. A front window with a bench, where a lazy cat soaked in sun rays. Harry could just see the overcast sky of Donny in his mind, and knew that as soon as he had collected his post from Jonesy, he’d move heaven and hell to get back to his boy.

~~~

_Harry could feel the ringing in his ears, as his head was forcibly snapped to the right from the force of Louis’ open palm._

_He probably should have expected the slap. Louis had always been one for dramatics. Although considering the circumstances, Harry could understand the motive._

_“Fuck you. I can’t believe you would risk your life like this, Hazza,” Louis grabbed his face between his open palms, as if initiating a peck on the lips. “You are_ sixteen _, Harold. That’s too young to be galavanting off into war.”_

_Harry shrugged, unperturbed by the verbal dressing down he was receiving from the taller boy. It couldn’t be any worse than the way his mum and Gemma had wept onto his shoulders. His father, however, was happy to see Harry off. After he’d realized what a fairy his son had grown into, a stint in the armed forces seemed like as good a way as any to knock the queer out of him. It almost hurt to think of how little his father cared for him, but he’d buried that pain years ago._

_After a moment, Louis began to cry, the treacherous tears slowly trailing from his long lashes to the cut of his cheeks. With a coo, Harry pulled his boy into him pressing his snotty face into the cleft of shoulder, while rubbing his back with the other hand._

_“Loulou, I can’t back out. I’ve already signed up. I’ve got to leave tomorrow for basic, it’s my duty to the King and Country.”_

_Louis pulled his head from its hiding place before giving the other lad an incredulous look._

_“Fuck the King. Fuck England. Britain doesn’t deserve anything if it’s allowing sixteen-year-olds to potentially die in some stupid fucking war,” Louis spit, his face angrier than Harry had ever seen it in the decade they had been friends._

_“I love you, Louis. And I’m going to win this war for you. I’ll come back, I promise.”_

_He felt himself stumble back into the rigid siding of his barn, as Louis pressed a feverish kiss to his lips. Melting into the kiss, he let Louis take control. That’s how it had always been between them, and Harry felt himself give in to the comfort of Louis’ soft skin. He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to hold his love in his arms again, and that was a frightening thought._

_“You bet your arse you’re coming back, Styles. Even if I have to travel over half of Europe to drag it back.”_

_Harry giggled, running his nose along the slope of Louis’ neck, before placing a soft kiss below his jaw bone. “I’ll be back with knobs on, Loubear,_ [ _with brass knobs on_ ](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.h5cwg0u6523c) _.”_

 _Louis lightly swatted at him, a small grin taking over his once solemn face, “You_ are _a knob.”_

_“Your knob,” Harry replied with a smug grin._

~~~

After a short moment of waiting, Harry saw Jonesy appear out of another room. He waved at the shorter man, one of the many friends he’d made in his two years in the infirmary.

It had been dreadful at first, forced to use crutches to move about his wing of the building. On top of that, he'd been dealing with the worst case of [ combat stress reaction](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.ih0kdl25p6fu) the hospital staff had seen in awhile.

He'd wake up and hear the sound of planes flying overhead, the shots of gunfire moving him into action. He had hurt himself countless times by leaping from his cot and hiding underneath it. It got so bad that at one point he'd been tied down at night for his own safety, not that it did anything for his mental stability.

Sometimes the dreams were of the beach at Normandy. Those were always the worst. Harry could still catch whiffs of the sea salt mixed with the blood of thousands of injured and dead men. Everything looked like it was covered in a red-tinged film, and Harry often vomited as soon as he became 100% cognizant.

The nightmares were only one all part of his sickness; often he'd hear a loud bang from within the infirmary and feel like he was back with his troops dodging fire from axis soldiers. It always scared Harry, how easily he could be switched back into that mindset. It was like any little thing that was too similar to the warzone he'd been in for three years would hurtle him headfirst back into the fray of things.

It worried Harry; would he ever be able to live back home? If he wasn't safe from his own mind here how could he keep sane surrounded by others. He'd accidentally lashed out at the orderlies multiple times after coming back from a flashback.

It brought to mind whether he could live with Louis or his own family if he spooked at sudden movements? Hell he was like a frightened baby and he was tired of having to be on red alert just in case something happened. It was exhausting and he could never get a decent enough sleep to combat his deep fatigue.

Before he could get too far into his thoughts, Jonesy approached, a stack of envelopes in his hand. Harry’s eyes began to widen in response to the sheer volume of letters. Could these be the letters he’d been missing all along? Had his family and friends finally found him?

Jonesy had a sheepish look on his face as he held out the stack to Harry.

“Sorry H, but I guess your letters were all returned? I’m so sorry.” Jonesy placed a soft hand on Harry’s shoulder rubbing slightly, as if this small fleeting touch could make up for the five years Harry had been gone. Like if he tried hard enough, Jonesy could push the hurt away.

Harry gave Jonesy a pained look, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. “It’s fine Jonesy. Nobody’s fault but my own I guess.” Harry slowly moved towards Jonesy, his hands all full of papers. “Come, give me a hug, Jonesy,” he said pulling the other man into a warm embrace. “I’ve got to get back to Donny, but I’ll see you again some day, yeah?”

They pulled apart.“Course, Harry,” he nods along, voice soft in his goodbye. “I’ll miss you under foot. Gonna have to find another [ regular](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.9p78jcni717h) to keep me company when you get back to [ Podunk](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.gfo65to3etko).”

It hit Harry like a sack of bricks: he was going to miss these boys. As much as he’d regretted his decision when times felt weary, he knew he’d never change it. He’d had so much fun in between the fighting, found a family in these men, and he couldn’t be prouder of the man he’d grown into. He only hoped Louis would feel the same.

~~~

It was early when Louis heard the tell-tale sounds of his alarm clock. He pushed himself from bed, doing his best to find his work clothes in the darkness of the early morning. He could feel the chill from his open window, and quickly maneuvered through his messy room to shut it. By the time mid-day rolled around his room would feel like an oven, and Louis had learned the hard way that keeping his window and curtains covered would prevent it.

He left his room, quickly heading to the next room over. With a soft press of his hand, he opened the door, walking easily to the small bed in the center of the room. He delicately placed his hand on the shoulder of the sleeping figure, shaking ever so softly to wake them.

“Come on, angel, it’s time to go visit ur Nan for the day,” Louis said, a tenderness taking over his fatigue-roughened features.

“Tired, Daddy.” The sleeping girl said, wiping the halo of brunette curls from her soft eyes.

“You and me both, but you know the schedule,” Louis replied, quickly turning on the overhead light, to find an outfit for his two-year old daughter. “Gotta get up and ready, then you can sleep when you get to your Nan’s.”

With the practiced ease of a single father, Louis pulled a soft pale blue dress from the closet. He dressed his fussy daughter, with less tears than usual, before hustling her down to the front entrance.

Shoes were a different story, however. Louis easily put on his work boots before slipping on his daughter’s shoes. But, before he’d even gotten the chance to pick up her bag of belongings, she’d already flung her shoes behind her.

Louis sighed longsufferingly - _toddlers_. With heavy feet, he proceeded to gather the offending accessories before depositing them into the bag with the nappies, toys, and change of clothes he usually packed.

“No shoes today, noted.” He picked up the small child, holding her in the curve of his left arm, while he grabbed the bag with his right. After locking up his modest home, Louis walked towards the house at the end of the street.

When he arrived he heard the sounds of his mother puttering around the kitchen, probably preparing breakfast for her brood of children. His five younger sisters and one younger brother were all too young to leave the nest, though Lottie had been courting a handsome boy from school, much to Louis’ chagrin.

Louis softly rapped his middle knuckle against the door, the surrounding world quiet enough that it resonates in the late summer air. After a few moments, he heard the shuffle of his mother’s slipper-clad feet towards the door.

He’s greeted by the sleep-soft face of his mother, who easily placed a peck to his cheek before grabbing the newest Tomlinson into her strong arms.

Walking in, Louis placed his daughter’s bag onto the large dining room table. He turned back to his mother and daughter, almost sorry he had to leave them.

“Thanks again, Mum, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to make it up to you,” Louis said reaching out to hug the shorter woman.

“Louis William Tomlinson, you know I love Barbara. You know I love to watch her, and seeing her with Doris and Ernest is the best payment I could receive. If I didn’t like babies I wouldn’t have had so many, doll.” She pulled away from his hug, patting his cheek lightly. “Besides, I’d do anything for you, Boobear.”

With a sheepish smile Louis accepted the soft affections of his mother. If he closed his eyes and took a deep breath he could almost pretend he was eighteen again. Being back in his childhood home always left him with too many memories of missed opportunities. He could almost feel the soft curls of his best friend in his hands as they sloppily snogged; trying to be as quiet as humanly possible, at risk of being found in a compromising situation in Louis’ room. He quickly distracted himself by saying goodbye to Barbara. He couldn’t afford to dwell on his lost love. After years of grieving, he was almost back to normal.

Despite the plummet in his mood, Louis pasted on a brave face and left his childhood home. He had a train to catch, after all, standing around didn’t pay the bills.

~~~

 _Louis had been taking his day off in the local Donny pub for as long as he'd been in the mines. It had only been about a year after Harry left that he’d been drafted himself. He wasn't cut out for war, he was too rebellious. He would have been a liability to his men and so he decided to become a_ _[Bevin Boy](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.1w4z6qomlg1x)_ _._

_After drafting so many young men, Parliament realized early on that they had no one to mine out the necessary ore to keep the country running. Thus the Bevin Boys were created. Rather than going to war, many men who were drafted opted to work the mines._

_Despite how strenuous the work was, Louis was glad of the choice he'd made. He'd never gotten a letter in that first year, and he feared the worst. Harry must have died fighting for his country, and Louis couldn't imagine joining him in an unmarked soldiers grave._

_Once he'd drank his fill, Louis headed home. He wasn't very drunk, maybe just tipsy enough that the world seemed like a happier place. Just tipsy enough to see the head of his long dead friend. Dark brown curls bounced elegantly as he took each step. He seemed shorter like the war had never happened, like Louis was eighteen again._

_He slowly walked toward his old friend, slowly reaching out to lightly press his hand onto the closest shoulder. However, as soon as he touched the soft bony shoulder he realized his mistake._

_“Oh, I'm so sorry, miss! I thought you were someone I knew from when I was in school.” Louis said, quickly pulling his hand back to his side like he'd been burned by the delicate shoulder._

_“It's quite all right, sir,” the woman murmured, her eyes traveling slowly up his body. “It's not everyday such a handsome fellow is so forward with me.”_

_Louis could feel his blush traveling up his neck and across his cheeks. This woman didn't seemed to have minded his touch, and she so closely resembled Harry that he couldn't let her go._

_“I really do apologize, that was never my intention.” Louis said sticking his hand out delicately to the woman. “My name is Louis Tomlinson.”_

_The woman placed her hand in Louis’ warm palm. He quickly brought it to his mouth to kiss lightly._

_She smirked, happy with the course of events, “And mine is Betty Duval.”_

_“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Duval.”_

_Louis could already see himself falling in love with the beautiful dame in front of him. Her eyes were just a touch too hazel and her lips a shade less berry, but she had the perfect warm curls that Louis had spent so many nights dreaming of._

_Maybe this was for the best. Perhaps he'd call on her on his next day off and take her on a date. She seemed willing enough._

_As they parted, Louis made his request known, and Betty gave him a warm smile. “I would adore for you to come calling, Mr. Tomlinson.”_

~~~

It was a fairly overcast day when Harry finally made it home. The little town hadn't changed much since he'd left. There seemed to be less people and perhaps he could see why. There were probably many men who had never made it home, and he felt how truly lucky he was in that moment.

Stepping into the platform filled him with a distinct feeling of nostalgia. The last time he'd set foot here Louis had seen him off. It was a hard memory to think of, as Louis had looked so heartbroken, trying to hold back his tears. Harry had leaned out the train to wave until they'd gotten too far away, and he couldn't see his first love anymore.

And he still hadn't seen him since, which was almost too painful to consider. Harry stopped himself from thinking about Louis too much. It was easier that way. Besides, Harry would have plenty of time to visit him now that he was back home in Donny.

Before he could get too far from the train station, a woman stopped him. She was frail looking but her eyes sparkled in recognition when they made eye contact.

“Is that the strapping young Harry Styles who used to spend his days making bread in my family’s bakery?”

Harry stopped, his eyes sparking with fond memories of the woman in front of him.

“Well if it isn't Miss Mary! How are you ma’am?” Harry asked before pulling the woman in for a well overdue hug.

Mary grabbed Harry's back hard, patting him with all the force she could muster.

Harry could feel himself tearing up, beginning to blubber like a baby in the arms of a woman who'd watched him grow up.

What a scene they must have made: a one-legged veteran crying into the arms of an old haggard woman. He was at least half a foot taller than her, but he'd crumpled under the weight of the five years he'd been gone. With the arms of this woman wrapped around him, Harry could almost imagine he was that little cherubic sixteen-year-old who had only had to worry about yeast rising.

After a long moment of silence, Mary pulls back from the strapping lad in front of her. “Come on, Harry, let me treat you to tea.” She clasped Harry’s free hand, and slowly led him to the little tearooms nearby, mindful of his cane and leg.

Sitting in the old café reminds Harry of simpler times, he can almost hear the familiar laughter of school children and feel the soft press of his mother’s fingers on his shoulder. Mary easily ordered both of them a pot of  tea, smiling easily as she hands Harry the small jug milk. He hated to think of what this must be costing Mary, the room was nearly empty and having heard from other men how hard the rationing was hitting home, he understood why.

Harry thanks her softly before tipping a bit of milk into his steeping tea. He passes time idly stirring the cup with a teaspoon. He’d had tea in the infirmary, but it would never hold a candle to the tea in Donny.  

“I’m glad I ran into you, Harry, a lot has changed since you left for war. Lot of people were upset with you leaving so young. Broke your poor Mum’s heart you did.” Mary said to the young boy, once again trying to suss out the motivation Harry could have had for leaving the way he did. Running off to war at sixteen, before he’d even gotten a chance at life. Lying to the recruiters about his age, to face something no child should.

Harry looked rightfully sheepish at the consequences of his rash decision. It had been easy back then to put on his heroic trousers and sign himself up for war. However, looking at the aftermath from Mary’s perspective, he could see how foolish and selfish he’d been in his departure. It couldn’t have been easy for any of the people who loved him to watch him go. Now that he had his stack of unreceived letters, Harry isn’t even sure how the past five years had gone for the little town he’d grown up in, or the people who inhabited it.

“I wrote them so often, but,” Harry spoke softly, pulling the bundle from within his jacket, “it seems they never made it home.”

Mary’s face seemed to change from righteously indignant, to painfully raw. “Oh, Harry. You poor thing out there with no one to talk to from home.”

With a subtle brush of his fingers, Harry rubbed the slow trailing tears from his cheeks. “It’s all right, Mary. I’m home now, and I’m ready to make up for the last five years.”

“Lot has changed since you’ve been gone, Harry, dearest. We had [ another bombing](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.dxs55giq1ol6) not long after you left.” At his incredulous look, she nodded softly. “It was May of ‘41 you couldn’t have been gone too long. But, it wasn’t too big of a lot I reckon. Not many people hurt, thankfully.”

Trying to hold himself together, Harry whispered carefully, “Not my family, right? Not the Tomlinson’s?”

Mary shook her head quickly, “No, no, dear. No one you knew closely. Speaking of your family, though, I’m sorry I’ve got to be the one to tell you. They moved back to Holmes Chapel after the last bombing, too worried they’d be next. I’ve got their address if you’d like to write them, or visit?”

With a slumping of his shoulders, Harry nodded. His forlorn expression saying it all. He hadn’t known they’d left, and they hadn’t told him anything. Perhaps that was why his letters to them had been returned.

“And, Louis?” He replied, his voice taking on a nervous edge. Louis had been the most important part of Harry’s life before leaving, and the thought of seeing him again was close to euphoric.

“He’s moved down the street from his family, had a dame for a few years, but she left him not too long ago. He’s got a beautiful baby girl though, I think she’s about two now. His Mum watches her while he works.”

Mary had a thoughtful look on her face. She knew that Harry and Louis were best friends, but it struck her as peculiar how close they’d seemed to be. She’d been amazed when Louis had finally met a girl and settled down. Too bad he couldn’t keep her.

Harry could feel his fists clenching around his mug of tea, and his heart rate had exploded in response to the news. He tried so very hard to calm himself down, but it was almost impossible after hearing that his first love had betrayed him.

Mary continued to share the gossip of the past five years, without realizing Harry was only nodding along but not actually listening. After they had both finished their teas, and Harry had gotten his family’s address, they parted ways.

It took the entire slow walk to the post office for Harry to regain a sense of calm. If he were going to write to his family and visit Louis, he’d have to gain control of his temper. He’d never been good at that, but he forced himself to calm down as he pressed his way into the post office.

It didn’t take long before Harry had a sheet of paper in his hands and a pen to write with. He wrote a short letter, apologizing that he hadn’t been able to write them earlier, and that he was alive and well in Doncaster. He apologized for the pain he caused them before finally putting down that he’d visit when he could. He folded the paper up into thirds before carefully stuffing it into the envelope and sealing it. Meticulously, he printed his family’s new address before putting his name in the upper left corner, and rubbing a fresh stamp onto the right hand corner.

He felt lighter after mailing the letter. He just hoped that it wouldn’t turn out like every other time he had wrote to them. It would be almost too much for him to not get to see his mum and Gem again.

~~~

_Harry had been up in his bedroom when the alarm sounded, and hopes up in the Anderson shelter by the time it dropped. He’d been sleeping soundly when a loud noise woke him, and he tried to sleep again during that long night, but he couldn’t. The bombs fell for hours, and the sound of his beating heart kept him awake just as much as the sound outside did. But most of all, he couldn’t stop thinking of Louis and his warm embrace._

_His parents and Gemma listened to the radio for a while the morning after, having stepped outside to a town nearly in ruins. Harry couldn’t believe it, but those ear-splitting bangs had really been bombs hitting the scenic town he’d spent the last decade of his life living in. Hitting_ his _Doncaster_ . _Their home had survived relatively in tact, but many had not._

_His father had work to be going to however, and his mother dutifully set about to help those whose homes had been damaged. As soon as she left, having told them to stay out of trouble  Harry made knowing eye-contact with Gemma. She winked, knowing exactly what Harry wanted to do, and having no problem covering for him._

_With a blushing smile, Harry crept out of the backdoor of his home. Walking around outside was like being somewhere else entirely, but judging by the other people milling in the streets he wasn’t the only one thinking so. He subtly made his way a few roads over to the his home away from home._

_Slowly reaching his destination, Harry walked to the front door easily twisting the unlocked knob to let himself in. He could hear the family discussing the bomb quietly over the sounds of the radio broadcast, and knocked subtly on the jamb to alert them to his presence._

_“Harry!” a chorus of young girls shouted, before galloping over to cover him in sleep warm bodies._

_“Hello, little loves, it’s so nice to see you all. I just wish it was under better circumstances.” Harry replied before placing a peck to the top of Louis’ siblings’ heads. After a moment Jo shooed the girls away and back to their game._

_“Harry, dear, why are you here? Should you not be at home?” Harry blushed, averting his gaze to his best friend across the room. “Does your mother know where you are, young man? You are going to give her such a fright if she can’t find you!”_

_“I’m sorry, Jo, I had to come check on you guys and make sure you were all okay. I hated having to wait until this morning to check, it was so loud last night.” Harry replied, softly hugging the older woman. “Mother is out helping to clear the streets, so she knows I am safe. I’m glad you are all too.” He rushed to add before he was scolded again._

_Jo made a choked sounding sob from her throat before holding the young boy close to her. She kissed the top of his downy curls before turning her attention back to Louis._

_“We’re fine, honey. How about I make us all a cuppa before I send you home?” Her question was met with a resounding yes from the two boys._

_It was as Harry was sharing a warm mug of tea with his second family, that he realized that he couldn’t keep them safe by sitting at home doing maths. If he really wanted to protect the love of his life, he’d have to get out there and actually do something. Tonight wouldn’t be the last time they were in danger. He knew they were in a war, but before this moment it was easy to forget. Harry had been able to be carefree, but now with the threat of Nazis so close to home, he knew what he had to do._

_He only hoped they’d take him, young as he is, and that his lovely town wouldn’t be too heartbroken at his departure._

~~~

There was a distinct feeling Louis always had when he left the mines at the end of the day and took a train back to Doncaster. It was always vaguely cool, the sweat that had trailed over his body all day finally evaporating and leaving him shivering at the platform. It always left him weary, and the hard day’s labor left his body sore and his muscles aching.

Despite all the drawbacks to coal mining, he couldn’t say it was worse than the alternative. Being a Bevin Boy was much better than going to war. Louis may have hated the mines, but he would never exchange them for a rifle.

Now that he had Barbara, he was even happier with the little slice of life he had carved out for himself. He was making an honest living, and despite how much he missed his little girl while he was gone, she was growing up surrounded by the most loving family he’d ever known.

By the time he’d reached his familiar family home, he could hear the tell-tale signs of a tantrum. There was the sound of wailing and Louis was almost sorry he hadn’t arrived after it had ended. With a toddler of his own, Ernest and Doris were almost more than he could bare. The last set of twins had been born mere months before Barb, and the terrible twos had hit them particularly hard.

He stepped into the house, quickly heading to the lounge to help his Mum as much as possible. The problem seemed to be a toy that Doris was playing with but Ernest demanded was his. Louis’ mum was an old pro at this scenario, so he left her to her work.

Barbara was sitting patiently by her bag, and Louis could tell she ready to go home. Occasionally she had expressed, in her two-year-old way, that his siblings were a bit loud and she preferred the peace of their own home.

With that in mind Louis hoisted his daughter into his arms before grabbing her bag as well. He walked back over to where his mum was settling her newest babies.

The look of sheer love in her face reminded him of how he looked when Betty told him that she was with child.

It had been late August in ‘43, and Betty had been with him for a year and some change at the time. He still couldn’t believe she had accepted his courting of her. She had been the most beautiful dame he’d ever seen, and together they were going to have the loveliest little baby in the whole of Yorkshire.

Betty had gone to the county doctor, and came home with weepy eyes, a hand poised carefully over her stomach. She’d given him the news excitedly, both of them with stars in their eyes. Betty had been trying to find a way to tie Louis down for months, and now she felt with the baby he had to propose.

Louis had always dreamed of having kids; a big family of curly-haired children, but there was one thing wrong with the picture his future was painting. He was missing the love of his life, who was probably lying in an unmarked grave somewhere in the east. Betty may have just made Louis’ dreams come true, but somehow he couldn’t escape the choking, clawing feeling in his chest that everything wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

~~~

It didn’t take long before Louis was unlocking his front door, and carefully setting his daughter’s bag in its place in the foyer. He lowered Barbara down before quickly removing the shoes from both of their feet. He lined them up along the wall, before taking the delicate hand of Barb. They quickly walked upstairs, his mother having already fed and bathed the toddler.

Louis put her in her pajamas before tucking her in with a peck to the forehead. Barbara made a happy noise, always tired after visiting her nan, before wishing her father a soft “g’night.”

After lighting a candle in her room to serve as a comfort, Louis made his way to the kitchen in hopes of making a light dinner and cuppa before bed. By the time he’d finished eating his meager meal and had steeped his tea, he heard a few raps on his front door.

He was more than confused, not sure who would call on him at such a late hour. Surely his Mum could just give him a ring if she needed to talk? Despite his misgivings about the situation, Louis headed toward the door. He glanced into the peephole, taken aback by the ghost on the other side. The figure he could see was leaning ever so slightly, favoring his right side considerably. Before Louis could gain his bearings in the face of the first boy he’d ever loved, said boy knocked again.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, and yet there on the other side of this hunk of wood was Harry Styles, the boy he’d written off as dead years ago.

With a shaky hand, Louis unlocked the door, slowly twisting the knob and swinging it inwards.

As soon as their eyes met, Louis could see the emotions cycling through the other man’s eyes. It seemed that one moment they were full of glossy unshed tears, the next they were squinted in rage. Louis wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he quickly moved out of the threshold to allow Harry to enter his small home.

“Is it really you?” Louis heard himself say, unaware he’d even opened his mouth. “You never wrote, Harry, why didn’t you write?” He could hear himself beginning to get hysteric in the face of the man who had haunted him since he’d left.

“I could ask you the same thing, Lou.” Harry replied, his voice low and menacing in a way that Louis wasn’t exactly used to. The boy who had left five years prior had been soft and kind, with not a mean bone in his body. This man, however, seemed to have left that boy behind, taking on a rougher edge.

The only similarities Louis could find were his handsome curls, warm green eyes, and slow ambling drawl. It seemed war had scooped out the softness of late adolescence and packed the gaping hole with the rigidity of growing up too fast. Louis could only imagine what the horrors of war had done to the love of his life.

“Don’t turn this around on me,” Louis replied his tone matching the cutting edge of the other lad’s. “How the fuck was I supposed to know where to address a letter, you ninny? Just put your name on it and hope for the bloody best?”

Louis shook his head as he watched Harry stalk towards him. It seemed that Harry had grown over the years and now used this to his advantage by towering over the older man menacingly. The effect was somewhat lost due to the cane Harry had to rest his weight on, which struck Louis as odd.

“I wrote you so often Lou, but my let-” He was cut off before he could explain himself by Louis’ incredulous voice.

“Did you get hurt while you were off playing at war, Harry?”

Harry stopped, his demeanor changing rapidly from enraged to cautious wariness. “It’s nothing, Louis. I’m fucking fine.” He skirted away from Louis, trying in vain to not draw attention to his strange gait.

Louis, however, had other plans, as he thrust his hand out, grasping hold of Harry and violently swinging him back around.

This seemed to throw Harry’s balance off, and he fell into Louis, trying in vain to regain his lost footing. Louis held him fast, righting him with the ease of his well-cultivated mining muscles.

“Tell me what the fuck is wrong with your leg, or get the fuck out of my home, Styles.” Louis said, trying to inject enough venom into his voice to ensure Harry wouldn’t call his bluff. He would never toss Harry out into the street, but Harry couldn’t have known that for sure. At least not this Harry, who had been gone for so long.

“I lost my leg at Normandy! _Are you fucking happy?_ There I _said_ it.” Harry roared, pulling away from Louis like he’d been scalded with boiling water.

“Oh, Haz,” Louis said, his voice softening in pity for Harry. He looked like a cornered animal, and it was almost too hard for Louis to bear seeing him so upset.

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” Harry replied, continuing to shake with his barely concealed fury. “I don’t need your sodding pity, you dirty fucking [ _naff_](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.hxodsrqc2dcy).”

Louis knew what that meant, he’d been around gay men in the mines long enough to pick up the subtleties of [ Polari](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.14ahooeq51ub). It struck him as odd that Harry had picked up the underground language as well, but shouldn’t have been surprising. Harry could hardly be the only gay man who had served the King over the course of the war.

“Oi! You dumb cunt, ‘m not a naff. I’m fucking [ bibi ](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.wga5eamkh1k) , not that it should be any of _your_ business either way.” Louis replied unimpressed with the way he was being treated in his own home. “I thought you were dead, you son of a bitch! What was I supposed to do?” The words had morphed from angry to pleading as Louis let himself remember the grief he’d suffered for so long.

Harry snarled in response, unmoved by Louis’ excuses. “You were supposed to wait for me, arsehole. I told you I’d come back!” Harry shouted, voice booming into the still lounge. “And I did, but wasn’t I the fool? Finding out you’d had some bird while I was gone. Couldn’t keep your [ chaud](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.14tu2ec5s0l1) in your trousers long enough for me to come back could you, you slag?”

Louis had opened his mouth to retort when he heard soft sniffling from the hallway. Without a single look back to his guest, Louis ran towards the stairs. The sight in front of him broke his heart. His daughter was sobbing, rubbing her streaming eyes on a stuffed toy’s damp arm. She had obviously been woken by the two men’s argument, and had been too scared to make it past the middle of the staircase.

With a soft coo, Louis picked Barbara up, softly bouncing her as he wiped her rogue tears.

“Oh my poor sweet baby, I’m so sorry that we woke you.” Louis said taking his daughter in the lounge, to try and guilt Harry into calming down.

Harry had always had a soft spot for children, Louis had seen it firsthand with his younger siblings. He knew he was playing dirty, but with the most important person in his life sniffling pathetically in his arms, he felt it was a much needed tactic all circumstances considered.

Muttering soft comforts into Barbara’s ear, Louis brought her towards his house guest. Harry seemed almost shocked when he looked at the little girl, quietly noting her long wispy curls, and the soft crinkles by her eyes.

It was a shock to Louis when Harry moved closer, softly humming a lullaby to the upset child. “I’m so sorry that your daddy and I woke you up, dear. That was never our intention.” He held out his hand carefully for the girl to shake. “My name’s Harry, and I used to be your daddy’s best friend. What’s your name dear?”

Barbara glanced at Harry, her eyebrows drawn in, giving her the pouting expression of a young child. She then turned to her Daddy, looking unsure in the face of this stranger. Louis inclined his head toward Harry’s hand as if to say ‘it’s all right, go ahead.’ After getting the encouragement she needed, she carefully shook Harry’s hand.

“‘M Bah-Bah.” She replied, her ‘r’s completely missing in the way that toddlers are apt to do. Harry nodded sagely, as if this answered every question he’d ever pondered. He grinned as Louis mouthed ‘Barbara’ from behind her.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Barbara. You’ve got lovely hair.”

Barbara blushed at the compliment, reaching out to tug on Harry’s shorter curls. “Matchy,” she replied, causing Louis to blush as well.

He laughed a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “Seems I’ve got a type,” he joked, thinking of how he’d first met Betty. Brunette curls seemed to be his weakness.

Harry shot him a thinly veiled glare in warning, and Louis replied by putting his free hand up in surrender.

After a few tense moments, the two men sat side by side on the couch in Louis’ lounge. Barbara took the initiative to crawl over to Harry, finding him absolutely fascinating to inspect. As she pressed her pudgy fingers into his hair, he found himself thinking about what Mary had told him.

“I know that I’ve made a terrible impression on you tonight, coming here to fight instead of just being happy to find myself in your company once again. However,” he said, his eyes averting to the little girl in his arms, “I don’t have anyone else in this town anymore.”

His voice was wavering, as if he were fighting off tears, and Louis wasn’t sure what to make of it. Louis knew the Styles had fled after the last bombs hit Donny, but he wasn’t quite sure what that had to do with him.

“I met up with Mary from the bakery today and she said that you were working in the mines and having Jo watch Barbara.” Barb patted his cheek in response to hearing her name. “I was hoping you might let me stay on as a nanny of sorts? I could take care of the house and Barb while you're working?” Harry continued to look at Barbara rather than face Louis’ face.

After what felt like entirely too long, Louis finally spoke. “Of course you can stay here. You’re a git for thinking I’d turn you away after I just got you back.”

Harry could feel a grin splitting his face as he finally made eye contact with his first love. “I appreciate this so much, [ bijou](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.r58oomtsbx3g).” he said the slang term flowing from his lips like a well-loved pet name. “It’ll be like old times again.”

With a sigh Louis grabbed hold of Barbara once again, motioning for Harry to follow him. “Old times? God I’ve been dreaming about this day for years, Harry.”

After putting Barb to bed, the two men headed to Louis’ guest room. Harry set his cane down on the side table, before setting himself down on the bed.

“It’s not much, I’ll warn you. I haven’t had a houseguest since I bought the place.” Louis looked oddly sheepish, taking in the meager room as if for the first time.

Harry shrugged, already having pulled his trousers off, removing his prosthetic leg with practised ease. “Couldn’t be worse than the barracks, Lou. It’s more than I could have hoped for.”

After an awkward few silently tense moments, Louis leaned down to Harry and wrapped his arms tightly around the other man. He squeezed him as hard as he could, Harry seeming to take that as encouragement to do the same. Both boys stayed like that for what seemed to Louis like years, before finally letting go.

They wished each other a ‘[bona nochy](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.pukvol2l7r5f)’ in parting as Louis headed to his own bed next door to Harry.

~~~

_It was midday when Harry heard the distinct sound of pebbles on his window. The late August heat was beating in through pale yellow curtains, the window opened halfway in hopes of welcoming a breeze in._

_His father had already gone to work, his mother and Gemma heading to town to do a bit of shopping for groceries and a new dress pattern._

_Harry had the house all to himself and he couldn't have been more pleased with the situation. He walked downstairs, a distinct pep to his gait. This was exciting, this was his last hoorah before leaving._

_Pulling open the back door, Harry motioned over the boy he'd been waiting all day to see._

_“Come on, come on, Lou. Everybody's gone for a few hours and I've got plans for you.” With a coltish smirk, Harry led Louis up to his room._

_He'd invited Louis over this morning, leaving a buttercup yellow ribbon in the crack of his window._

_It was meant to be a goodbye gift, something Louis could remember him by. He could hold the ribbon close and think of what had transpired on this day in Harry's small bed._

_Harry had to leave soon. After lying about his age and forcing his way into the army, it was finally time to face the music. He was going to leave the day after tomorrow, and tomorrow was going to be when he told Louis._

_It was better this way for both of them. If he told Louis now he'd try to stop him, go and do everything in his power to keep him home. Harry couldn't have him ruining his deployment, so he'd decided to give him this parting gift before shattering his heart tomorrow._

_He knew it was selfish; leaving Louis in the dark, but he had to do what he felt in his heart was right. His heart was saying it was time to go out and be proactive about keeping his family safe. That's what he was going to do._

_Louis had pushed the door shut with his foot, easily pulling Harry into a soft kiss. It was just lips, for a moment, Louis placing special care to work Harry up. Harry yielded easily to the insistent press of Louis’ lips, running his fingers tentatively through the other boy’s hair._

_After a few moments of soft pecks, Harry felt himself whining, trying in vain to spur Louis into action. Louis pulled back, laughing softly at the way Harry looked. His eyes were already blown out, his hair mussed slightly._

_With an easy press of his hand, Louis shoved Harry down onto the bed. His legs were hanging off, his toes carding through the carpet in anticipation._

_“Someone's eager today,” Louis said, a smirk planted precariously on his face. He leaned down running his nose along Harry's downy neck. “What do you think we should do, Hazza?” He made a humming noise as he began to trail kisses down Harry's clothed torso._

_Harry could feel himself squirming under the attention, his cock hardening against Louis’ warm body. He could hear himself begging for Louis to do something, anything. The anticipation almost more than the younger boy could bare._

_“I don’t care, whatever you want, Lou,” Harry muttered, his arms thrown over his eyes, as he tried to be patient. It had been a few weeks since the last time they’d been able to do this. Harry had learned that time that Louis hated when he was greedy, but being patient was almost more than he could do._

_Louis had made it down to where Harry’s body was straining, nuzzling his cheek against the denim covering Harry’s thigh._

_With careful hands, Louis unbuttoned Harry’s trousers, pulling them down along with his pants. Moving closer to the other boy’s cock, Louis could feel himself hardening in his own pants. Something about feeling the heat of another body under his own, the musky scent of perspiration and precum, left him strung out and pliant._

_Harry began to shiver a bit, the summer wind blowing his damp curls off of his forehead. He could smell honeysuckle on the breeze, and if he strained hard enough he could almost taste it on his tongue. After a moment of peaceful breathing, Harry felt a wet tongue pressing insistently on the head of his prick._

_A soft gasping sound left his lips as he fought to keep his hips from bucking. Louis’ head had vacated its former position on his thigh, and had begun a slow up and down movement on his cock. What was left outside of his mouth he covered with his warm hand. His tongue moved sensuously against the underside of Harry’s cock, pausing occasionally to rub below the head teasingly._

_Harry was easy for it, his hands grabbing the sheets of his unmade bed, fists clenched so hard his tendons were visible. His head was shaking from side to side at the painfully slow slide of Louis’ lips. His bottom lip was clutched dangerously between his teeth, the skin white from the pressure of his bite._

_It wasn’t but a moment more that Harry shouted, his hands tapping insistently on Louis’ head. Unperturbed, Louis continued his aimless blow job until he heard Harry moaning through his climax. Louis continued to suck on the head, his hand picking up the slack on the shaft. Harry released into Louis’ mouth, his hands clutching the fine strands of Louis’ copper hair as he did._

_Louis pulled off licking his lips, as Harry groaned in bliss. Placing a kiss to the fuzzy hair below Harry’s navel, Louis pulled the other boy’s pants and trousers back up his legs. He carefully tucked Harry’s soft cock away before climbing onto the bed beside Harry._

_They’d learned the hard way that Harry was useless after cumming, but Louis wasn’t in any hurry. Even if Harry’s family came home, he could still get off quietly in Harry’s big hands. Living with so many people had trained him well._

_By the time Harry began to fidget, Louis’ prick had gone back down to half mast._

_“Louuu,” Harry whined turning onto his side so he was facing the other boy, “you didn’t get to cum.” His voice was scratchy from the shouting he’d done earlier, and his lower lip was pushed out in a childlike pout._

_Unable to help himself, Louis kissed Harry’s pouty lips, his teeth teasing along the protruding lower lip. After a moment, Louis pulled away trailing his lips along Harry’s sharp jaw line until he reached his ear. He paused to bite teasingly along his earlobe before whispering into his ear._

_“Turn around then, love,” Louis replied, helping to push Harry’s chest into the mattress. He shuffled up the mattress so that most of his body was lying flush, his head turned toward the window._

_Climbing onto the boy, Louis pressed his quickly responding dick against the denim covered arse in front of him. His legs were in between Harry’s, pushing them apart with his knees. Slowly Louis began to thrust against Harry’s warm body, the friction almost too intense to be comfortable._

_He started off slow, pressing hard against Harry, before working his way up to a speed that left him sweaty and slightly breathless. Harry was moaning below him like he was really being fucked into the mattress. Seeing Harry falling apart just from Louis imitating sex, had the older boy spiraling towards release. He leaned down, hiding his face in Harry’s damp neck. Continuing his pace, Louis found himself mouthing softly at the flesh, tonguing until all he could taste was salt._

_Harry was moving back against him, pressing his arse up and into Louis’ cock. Louis could feel the sun streaming onto them through the curtains, and he felt indescribably at peace. The warm gust of summer breeze stirring the air in the small room, and bringing in the scent of blooming flowers. Louis could feel himself close to cumming, his pants wet from exertion. Before he could cum into his pants like the youthful teenager he was, he felt Harry shudder into the mattress, his body spent and immobile after coming again. It only took a few more thrusts before Louis was groaning into Harry, his body spasming as he came._

_The two boys laid there on Harry’s bed in bliss, watching the curtains billow with the wind. It was a few hours before Louis snuck out of the small room, leaving Harry to wash off the evidence of what had happened in his bed._

~~~

Harry hadn’t been moved in long, his meager possessions that consisted of mostly clothing, had been dutifully put away. It had been bittersweet sleeping alone when Louis was just a wall away, but things weren’t the same as he’d hoped they’d be. Louis was older, his body more filled out, his voice rougher. Harry wasn’t sure how much of his Louis was left, and it made his chest ache like it did when he was in France.

Louis had come home an hour ago, heading immediately to the shower as Harry set up dinner for the pseudo family. After their shared meal, Louis had put Barb to bed, while Harry made each of them a cuppa. Harry left the mug of Yorkshire tea on the small table by Louis’ chair before flicking on the radio and turning it to a serial he’d been listening to since returning home.

Slowly, Harry lowered himself into a chair, laying his cane where he could easily grab hold of it if he needed to. By the time Harry had picked up his tea, Louis had returned in a dressing gown and slippers. His hair was dark from how wet it was, dropping beads of water onto his golden face and neck.

They didn’t speak as they sipped their drinks, listening to the weekly episode of _Crime Club_ on the Mutual station.

It was unsettling how uncomfortable both men looked. Harry was looking off into the distance, doing everything in his power to ignore the other man in the room. The thought of accidentally making eye contact with Louis was more than he could deal with in this moment. Too much was different, but at the same time it felt like too much was still the same. They were two completely different people than they had been before he’d left, but they were very much the same young boys falling too deeply in love. The tension between them was palpable.

Despite how uncomfortable this situation felt, Harry knew that he didn’t want to give up on it. He had loved Louis for too long to let him go, but it wasn’t his choice. If Louis decided that Harry needed to leave and that they’d never be able to be anything more than ex-lovers, Harry would let him go. It would hurt, but Harry knew that he’d caused so much damage to the young man across from him, that whatever Louis wanted he would do.

He could move back in with his parents and find someone new. It would be difficult but if he had to pull himself up by his bootstraps and go, he would. Glancing over at Louis the first time and seeing how vulnerable he looked in the lamplight with his hands wrapped around a cuppa, Harry knew that he’d stay here as long as he was allowed. Soaking up whatever sun rays he could from the shining star who held his world. Even if prolonging the inevitable only hurt Harry in the long run, he wouldn’t pass up a moment of basking in Louis’ existence.

When the radio show ended, Harry grabbed both his and Louis’ empty mugs. He headed to the kitchen to wash them out, placing them on the drying rack. He turned off the radio, flicking off the lamp as he headed to his room. There were no noises from either Tomlinson’s bedroom, and Harry felt a sharp shooting pain in his chest.

Louis had gone to bed without saying good night to him.

It was such a simple thing, but for some reason it seemed to highlight the gaping chasm between the two men, and left Harry sobbing silently into his pillow until he succumbed to sleep.

~~~

_Harry had been gone for at least a month, when he finally had the time to write a letter. He’d already mailed one out to his folks earlier in the week, and now he’d decided it was time to face the music and write Louis._

_He knew Louis was upset with him, had seen his reaction first hand, but he missed him something fierce. Harry hadn’t had an easy go of army life. His body was sore and achey and he missed his bed; the food was rotten, he’d eaten_ _[shit on a shingle](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.g899phk6eqh) _ _more times than he could count. The weather was starting to turn and Harry knew he was in for cold months ahead, but he couldn’t write that in the letter._

_He had to put on a brave face, and prove to Louis that he could handle himself. He was a grown man off at war and he was going to sugarcoat all of the bad things that had happened to him. Louis needed to see that he was doing great, having a wonderful time on the front. There was no need to write the truth, Harry just wanted to give his boy peace of mind._

_Sitting at a small table, Harry began to write his first letter back home. He’d heard the other men writing their behavior reports, and decided to write one to Louis._

Dear Louis,

We’ve finally arrived in France, and it’s lovely here. Not quite the Parisian spring I’d pictured, but it’s nice to finally visit. I’ve made quite a few friends within my troop, and I’ve been working out quite a bit. I know you’ll appreciate that when I arrive home. We anticipate that we won’t be in the thick of things for a few months, so you don’t have to worry about me.

The food is great, and they’ve got cuppas for us every night. I can’t lie though, these guys can’t hold a candle to your brewing skills. I look forward to getting to drink your signature concoction once we’ve won the war.

I feel that this experience will only make me a better and stronger man for you.

I miss you greatly, and am counting down the days until I am in your arms again,

Harry ♥

_He sighed, folding the paper neatly into thirds before stuffing it into the envelope. Harry hadn’t realized how lonely he would feel out here, and without Louis everything seemed bleak and less important._

_After sending the envelope off to be posted, he found himself lying in his cot. Technically it was a free period that Harry could use to get to know the men around him, but he couldn’t be bothered to go out and make nice. He was tired, chilled to the bone, but could only vaguely feel it with how much he wanted to just feel the soft planes of Louis’ chest against his back._

_Perhaps he was regretting enlisting a bit. Maybe he was regretting it quite a lot. It was much too late for thoughts like those, so Harry simply imagined he was back in his room with Louis. It was late summer and he could hear the sounds of cicadas buzzing around as the wind rustled his curtains lightly. Louis was snoring lightly, like a baby, and his arms were tight bands around Harry’s torso. His copper hair was tickling against Harry’s neck, but it was a welcome sensation._

_By the time Harry had fallen asleep he found himself dreaming of the boy he’d left behind. It made it so much harder to wake up in the morning, the sound of the bugle wrenching him from his lover’s embrace._

~~~

It was only about midmorning when Harry woke up. The house was pleasantly quiet, Louis having left for work hours before. For a moment, Harry just lazed in the bed. It had been so long since he'd had his own room with his own big bed, and he wanted to bask in the comforts of his new home.

Tragically, it wasn't long before Harry could hear the sounds of childish giggles. With a bit of a sigh, Harry began his morning ritual. He grabbed his leg from where it had spent the night, and methodically went about putting it on, being extra careful to check that it was well fastened. The last thing he needed was to have a slip up while trotting Barb around. Louis would never forgive him, and Harry would never forgive himself.

By the time Harry had finished bathing and getting dressed, Barb was already waiting patiently outside his door. She was still in her night gown, her hair a tangled snarl from tossing and turning all night. With a fond grin, Harry led Barb back to her room.

“Time to get ready for the day, love.” Harry said, cheerfully pulling out a yellow dress with a white pinafore. He'd decided to do a bit of baking, and felt that he might as well let Barbara do all the fun parts.

He easily dressed the little girl, taking special care to tie her pinafore straps into perfect bows.

“Let's do something about your hair, Miss Barbara. It seems to be awfully mad at you.” The young girl laughed, touching her hair and making snarling sounds like a big cat.

Harry grabbed a wide toothed comb to begin taming the hair beast. He started with feather light brushes through the very bottom, taking care not to tug too hard. It had been a long time since he'd brushed long curly hair. He'd helped Gemma with hers for as long as she'd let him. He had even had to brush his own when he was a young boy. His mum had loved how beautiful his curls were, and cutting them was akin to cutting Samson’s hair.

It took a fair amount of time, but eventually, Harry had tamed Barbara’s hair, choosing to put it in a plait in order to keep it out of the way. Baking with long curly hair was a bit of fire hazard.

With slow methodical steps, Barb and Harry made it down the stairs. It was well past time for breakfast, so Harry quickly chopped an apple up for the toddler, before pouring her a glass of water. He helped her pick the glass up, being careful to ensure it wasn't dropped to the floor. It wasn't long before Barbara had finished her breakfast and was antsy to get back down. Harry obliged easily, before pulling out flour, sugar, and eggs from the pantry.

“How would you like to make some biscuits, Barb?” Harry asked, pulling out cups and bowls and a whisk. He had been saving up his rations for weeks now, hoping to treat both Barbara and Louis to something special.

Barbara grinned, letting out a shriek of glee. Then she proceeded to make grabby hands at Harry.

He easily picked her up, placing her on the counter where she could supervise his baking.

She babbled on to him, saying nonsense words and telling nonsense stories. Harry wasn't sure what exactly he was meant to be taking away from her stream of consciousness, but he played along nodding and ‘mhm’ing at all the right places.

By the time that they'd finished the biscuits it was time for lunch, so Harry fixed them up a quick meal. They sat down at the table, eating their lunch and waiting patiently to scarf down one of their biscuits.

“Hawwy?” Barb asked, sounding tentative.

“Hmmm?” Harry replied, his hum lilting up at the end in a question.

“Daddy’s been sad long time.” She said, chewing her biscuit thoughtfully as she stared at Harry.

He was rather taken aback. How sad had Louis been for the two years he'd had Barb? And how was Barb able to tell he was sad at all? He gave her a puzzled look in response wondering what she was implying.

“Not no more though,” she said giving Harry a stern look. “He happy with you.” She looked like a mother scolding her children, as though she was warning him. A loose threat from a two-year-old which was more intimidating than it had any right to be.

“I make your Daddy happy, Barbara?” he asked, moving his plate away as he focused on the young girl.

She nodded, reaching out for his hand and patting it haphazardly. “Course, Hawwy.” She shook her head, like Harry was being purposefully obtuse, and it left a warm feeling in Harry’s chest.

Perhaps all hope wasn’t lost for him and Louis. They might never be as recklessly in love as they had been in their youth, but maybe they could be friends again. The best of friends. It made Harry’s heart leap, and his pulse quicken at the thought of getting to spend the rest of his life with Louis somewhere near. Even if he had to watch him fall in love with some other bird. Keeping Louis was worth any anguish it might cause him, he was worth so much more than that.

~~~

_It had been a while since Harry had sent his first behavior report back to Louis, and he still hadn’t gotten a letter in response. He could say he was worried, which was true, but overriding all of that was his loneliness._

_War was a good way to form instant camaraderie with other men, but it was no where near what he had with Louis in their small village._

_None of these men knew his innermost secret, or his deepest desires, or the ridiculous fears of his future that had kept him up at night for years. Only Louis knew all the dark corners of Harry’s body, the soft interior of Harry’s heart, and the hopes and dreams he hid away. It was hard being away from him, like when a mother takes a comfort toy from her child too early._

_Louis had always been Harry’s protector. He’d been older and stronger, taller and more intimidating. His colorful vocabulary scaring the school-yard bullies away from the fragile curly-haired boy. Harry had always been a bit soft around the edges, and it seemed to make him an easy target; someone smaller and sweet, willing to take the abuse. Louis had taken the younger boy in treating him like the younger brother he’d always wanted. He taught Harry to protect himself as well, but being away from him left Harry feeling uneasily vulnerable in a situation that made vulnerability dangerous._

_There was a loud commotion from the barracks, and Harry knew without a doubt that it was mail time. Watching the glee of the other men just put Harry in a fouler mood. They were all so excited and happy, sharing interesting news with the other men. It made Harry feel even more alone. He slowly walked toward the post delivery boy, waiting patiently to see if he had a letter from home._

_It wasn't long before all the letters in the stack had been handed out, and Harry knew with complete certainty that neither Louis nor his family had written him a letter. And that was almost more than he could take._

_Harry wandered off by himself to try and clear his head. He had gotten far enough from the other men that he could no longer make out the individual conversations they were having._

_With the distance between them, he felt just comfortable enough to let the tears he'd been holding in out._

_He'd tried not to cry too much since he'd left home, but he'd always been a bit too softhearted. That's what his mum used to tell him, especially on those nights where Des had teased too hard._

_His eyes were a bit blurry and stung a bit from the dry air. He wished he had Louis with him to dry his tears. To give him a soft kiss to the cheek and hold him tight. It was nights like these that reminded him of why he'd left Louis behind._

_If he wanted to keep his family safe, he needed to man up and do it himself. That's what his father had always said, and so that's what he'd do. Even if it meant leaving them behind and being his own best friend. It would be worth it in the end._

_Despite that he still wished for news from home. But, no matter how many letters went unanswered, Harry was not going to stop writing them. He just hoped it would be enough._

~~~

It's a bit late, and the weather had already begun to turn colder. Winter was around the corner, which meant that Harry would soon be spending his first Christmas back home. It was a bittersweet feeling. He'd made it back with his life, but he wasn't with his parents or Gemma. He didn't even have any way to get Louis and Barb presents.

He wasn't sure what he could do to repay them for taking him in and helping him adjust to post-war life.

He'd just steeped a pot of tea, and had set it down at the dining room table with the jug of milk. Barb had told Harry that Louis was happier with him here, and that was all the push he needed to slowly make his way back into Louis’ good graces. Things were so awkward between them that Harry had worried they'd grown too far apart.

However, with Barb’s blessing, he was going to try getting to know the new Louis, and let him get to know the new Harry as well.

Louis had just put Barb to bed, telling her a bedtime story about dragons and knights and true love. It was a story that Harry had heard a thousand times in the Tomlinson household, but it never ceased to surprise him.

Louis and Harry were sitting across from each other at the dining room table, mimicking the position that Harry and Barb had been in just that morning. Both men were subtly sipping their hot teas trying not to make direct eye contact.

After a painfully quiet moment, Harry decided to speak. “I think it’s high time we talk about what happened while I was gone.”

Louis looks stricken, immediately worried that they’re going to have another knock-down drag-out fight like they had the night the other man had arrived. He sets his tea down, feigning nonchalance. “As long as it’s a civil discussion. I cannot have us waking up Barbara with another petty argument. We are _not_ the young boys we used to be, and we shouldn’t act like we are either.”

Harry nodded, his cheeks flushing at the thought of how childish they had been all those weeks ago. In the heat of the moment, it had all made sense, the screaming, the anger and harsh words. Thinking of the way Barbara had wept from hearing them yell was enough to keep him civil.

“As you’ve undoubtedly noticed, I have arrived home with one less leg than I left with.” Harry said, laughing a bit to try and lighten the mood. However, after Louis gave him a less than pleasant reaction, he moved on. “It was D-Day, and I was on Normandy,” he paused, collecting his thoughts.

It had been two years, but he could still catch the whiff of sea in his nostrils like it had moved into his sinuses permanently. Some days, if his thoughts were too quiet, he could hear the shouts of men, and the blood-curdling sound of bullets embedding into flesh. He couldn’t exactly remember what happened to him that resulted in him losing his legs, but the doctors had said something about a nasty fall.

“It was awful, Louis, I had never seen so much blood in my life, so many casualties...” he trailed off, pressing his palms into the sockets of his eyes, as if that could stop the images trailing behind the lids of his eyes. After a moment he pulled his hands away, placing them back on the table, only for Louis to take them in his, rubbing his thumbs in circles.

“I’m still not completely sure what happened, one second I was storming the beach, the next I’m waking up in the infirmary without a left leg. Wasn’t long before they gave me this prosthetic one, and it took me a bit of time to get the hang of it. It certainly makes life much easier.”

Louis continues to rub Harry’s hands, feeling pity for the man who had woke up all alone in that infirmary with a missing limb. He can’t imagine how difficult that must have been to cope with, let alone move on from. However if anyone could embrace the change, it was Harry.

“You’re very brave, Harold, and I’m so glad you made it back home to me. I just wish it could have been sooner. I missed having you around.”

With an answering nod, Harry decides to ask Louis about the intervening years. “Tell me about the woman, please.”

With an uncomfortable grimace, Louis begins picking at the cuticle of his nails. “I met her in 42’ after leaving the pub on my day off from the mines. She was walking down the street, and as soon as I saw her, I thought she was you.”

Louis tapers off, taking another gulp of tea, and trying to avoid looking at Harry. There’s a soft noise coming from the other lad, but Louis’ too chicken to look up. It’s too much and he knows it is, how attached and clingy it sounds. Like Louis couldn’t handle being alone. It was too much, he was too much.

He feels a soft feather-like touch on his head, and feels his body loosen; the tension he’d been holding slipping from his grasp.

“Lou,” Harry replies, his voice dragging out the vowel sounds like a coo or a whine.

“I know it’s pathetic, Haz, you don’t have to tell me.” He covered his eyes with the palms of his hands, still unbelieving he’d admitted why he’d even acknowledged Betty. Releasing the words into the chilled kitchen felt like a confessional a recompense for breaking Harry’s heart and his trust. “She had your curls, and her frame was like yours before you grew into your body. I just- I walked over without thinking. I thought you’d made it home finally. I thought maybe I was wrong about thinking you were dead.”

He heard the familiar sound of chair scraping against flooring, and prepared to face Harry. He could feel his chest hitching a bit, as though it couldn’t seem to catch a breath. He felt panicky, like he would combust if he didn’t let out his pent up kinetic energy.

What he didn’t expect was to feel the warm arms of Harry wrapping around his chest. Harry rubbed soothing circles into the cotton covered flesh he could find, hiding his face in the crook of Louis’ neck. Louis couldn’t be sure but it almost felt like Harry was placing barely there kisses onto his body.

“Oh, bijou, please don’t feel bad. If I had seen someone who looked as [ filly](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.hk2cqx10hstq) as you, I probably would have done the same. I missed you so much, and it’s obvious you missed me just as much. Please don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Harry pulled back, rubbing Louis’ hair like a fond father would. “Tell me about Barbara.”

With a soft smile Louis began to describe the little girl who held his heart in her petite hands.

~~~

Harry wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew that it was late, by the darkness of his room. The house was extraordinarily quiet, almost so that Harry wasn’t sure that Louis and Barb were even still in it.

The night was quiet and calm, which heavily contrasted the way Harry felt. He’d been dreaming moments before, but for the life of him couldn’t remember the contents. Though the erection in his pants seemed to imply the gist of it.

He groaned rolling over onto his stomach, and rolling his hips a few times to take the edge off. He was like a teenager again, getting wet dreams in the middle night. This time, though, he didn’t have Louis to take care of him.

He'd left his window open in hopes of a breeze, and now he could feel the cool night air ruffling his short curls.

The feeling against his cock was nice, but he knew it wouldn't be enough to get him off, so he tried to imagine one of his fantasies from when he was a soldier.

It always started out the same. Harry would be in his cot, sleeping on his tummy like always. Except that he was in a similar position to the one he was currently in: chasing his release.

Harry would try to be quiet, but it was much too difficult and a few minutes in he'd be whimpering. He'd hear a noise to his side, and turn to see Louis in a dashing set of fatigues.

From there it devolved into Louis laughing at him. ‘Gagging for it. Can't even wait long enough to get a hand around yourself.’ Harry would make a wounded noise, watching as Louis leaned down. ‘Go ahead, baby. Rub one out for me. Make me proud.’

It always had the same effect on Harry. The man working double time to get off for Louis. Rubbing little figure eights in hopes of doing a good enough job. Hoping the show he was putting on would be enough to make Louis happy.

Harry continued to fuck his hips into the mattress, his head turned to the side letting out light gasps at the friction. He could feel that he wasn't going to last long. He hadn't had a wank since he'd shown up that night in August and it was fraying his nerves. But, seeing as he was literally fucking Louis’ mattress, he felt he was hitting an all time low.

It was a tad embarrassing to be grinding his cock with his pants still on, but if Harry was honest with himself, it added to the flames tickling low in his belly. But replaying Louis’ words in his head he could feel his release coming.

His rhythm became sloppy, as his body jerked from the stimulation. He could just imagine the feeling of Louis’ fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make his scalp tingle in that familiar way. He could just picture Louis using his hair as leverage to pull his head closer to him. Whispering into his ear about how good he was being. How his perfect boy was doing such a good job putting on a show for him.

It didn't take long after that for Harry to stutter to a stop in the bed, his mouth wide open in silent ecstasy. He could feel where his pants were soaked, his cum and precum seeping through to his sheets.

He groaned, half of him wanting to lie boneless in his mess until he fell back asleep, the other half demanding he clean up before letting sleep claim him.

After a moment of silent internal bickering, Harry decided to forfeit a post-coital nap in favor of putting on clean pants. He felt around in his dresser for a pair before peeling the sticky pair from his sensitive dick. He softly rubbed the clean side of his pants around his cock, trying to clean as much of his spunk off of himself as he could. Taking a wash would have been preferable, but Harry couldn't be fucked to bother. He quickly slipped on his clean pants before falling back into bed with a huff.

It was going to be a long rest of his life if he had to spend his nights quietly wanking in his childhood sweetheart’s home. Which reminded him: how on earth was he going to look Louis in the eyes after this.

As if coming in his pants in his guest room wasn’t bad enough, Harry had gotten off to the idea of Louis being in the room with him, helping him. That had to cross a few unspoken rules and boundaries, and it left Harry feeling dirty in the worst kind of way.

He had just rekindled his friendship with the man, and now he was creaming his trousers at the thought of him. Harry sighed, wishing he could melt into the mattress and hide from what he’d done. Instead, his body stayed completely solid, slowly dragging him to sleep. He’d just have to cross this bridge when he came to it, opting to sleep in the meantime.

~~~

The weather had been steadily moving towards winter for weeks now, and Louis had been counting down the days until his birthday. It would be Harry’s first Christmas back home, and Louis wasn’t quite sure how they were going to handle it. On one hand, Harry could buy a train ticket to Holmes Chapel, but Louis was worried about the logistics of getting him safely to the Styles’ home. On the other hand, Louis could invite Harry to Christmas at his house with his Mum and siblings. But, he wasn’t exactly sure that Harry would want to attend.

Jo had already made it abundantly clear that Harry was more than welcome to join them, but Louis was a bit apprehensive about bringing it up to the other man. He wasn’t quite sure how Harry would take it, and wasn’t keen on pissing him off after they’d become close again.

He had been having tea with his Mum on one of his rare days off when she had brought it up. She’d mentioned how happy they’d both seemed recently, and how kind it was for Harry to watch her granddaughter. Somehow that had devolved into discussions of his family, and where he would be spending the upcoming holiday. Louis had shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, explaining that he hadn’t even mentioned it to the other man.

His mother, being the woman she was, immediately extended an invitation to Harry. She’d always loved the floppy-haired boy, especially when she’d realized just how much they had meant to each other. Harry had been a staple in their lives for so long, that going without his good natured, amiable presence was like experiencing a drought. Though he was back from war, Jo continued to worry about him. Whether he was coping well, or if he needed a break from watching Barbara all day? If he’d been down to see his family, or if they knew he was okay? Jo couldn’t help it, she’d been a mother for twenty-four long years. Worrying about her babies was just a fact of life.

By the time the duo had finished their tea, Louis was left with explicit instructions to invite Harry to the Tomlinson house for Christmas celebrations. However, Louis still felt apprehensive about it. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have much of a choice. When Jo made a request, Louis followed along. He couldn’t lie to his Mum, so he’d have to at least broach the topic with Harry. He just wasn’t sure what that would lead to.

Louis worried that Christmas at the Tomlinson’s would be too overwhelming to Harry. The poor man hadn’t been out too often since coming back home, preferring to keep to himself. A week after coming home, he found out that most of the town thought he was dead. Harry had become a bit of a hermit after that, only venturing out to get groceries, or visit with Jo. Louis wasn’t sure a house full of bustling siblings was the best thing for Harry at the moment. It seemed like all the hubbub would be too overwhelming for Harry, and putting him in a situation like that was the last thing Louis wanted to do. What kind of friend would force that on him?

‘Course Louis couldn’t make these decisions for Harry. He was a grown man who knew his own limitations, and Louis would never try to coddle him like that unless asked to explicitly. Despite his misgivings, Louis had to face this head on, and extend the invitation to his housemate.

A few mornings later, when Louis was steeping his morning cuppa, Harry meandered into the kitchen, his gait awkward, cane in hand.

“Hey Lou,” he said, voice rough from disuse and honey warmed from sleep.

“Harry,” Louis replied, angling his head in acknowledgment. “I’ve been wondering what you’d planned for Christmas?”

Quickly, Harry’s face puckered, like he’d tasted something unpleasant, and Louis rushed to continue talking.

“Not like that, you bugger. Mum was asking ‘bout you. Invited you to ours for Christmas eve, and day. Just wasn’t sure if you’d want to stay with us or go back home?”

Louis scuffed his work boots on the floor, choosing to stare into his cuppa rather than Harry’s face.

“Home?” Harry asked. “I am home, Louis.”

With a scoff, Louis finally moves to make eye contact, sitting down across from Harry at the tiny dining table. He doesn’t understand Harry at all. Why wouldn’t he want to go to Holmes Chapel to see his family? He’d been gone for so long, why would he settle for Louis’ family? It didn’t make sense.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want to go see Anne and Gemma for Christmas?” Louis asked, an incredulous tone to his voice. Harry had always clung to his Mum and sister, and he hadn’t moved to see them in the almost five months he’d been in Donny. It seemed so strange to Louis, who would’ve moved mountains to spend Christmas with his own brood.

Harry shrugged, “I’d like to yeah, but I haven’t been able to celebrate your birthday in five years. I’d like to spend time with my second family, if that’s all right by you.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that he feels like his family abandoned him. Everyone up and moving without a return address. No letters, no word from anyone. It felt like a sharp slap in the face. At least with Louis, the letters weren’t either of their fault. His family however up and moved before he even had the chance to put the letter in the post. They were gone before it even arrived at their door. He was still sore about it, and felt that spending Christmas back with his family would only be a hinderance to them all.

Without mentioning any of those thoughts, Harry accepts the invitation to spend Christmas at Louis’ Mum’s house. He hadn’t seen the brood in a few weeks, and he had a new braid to try out on Lottie. Plus there were the twins to entertain, and a new pair of ribbons for Félicité’s signature pigtails.

~~~

The house is still warm from their earlier fire, as the trio head toward the door. Harry has done Barb’s hair up with bows and perfected the curls that matched his own. She’s dressed in her best dress, her shoes shined to perfection. She’s resting in Louis’ arms, as Harry locks the front door, leaning heavily on his cane.

Louis had put on his white dress shirt, freshly pressed under Harry’s careful fingers. His dress slacks are quite fitted to the top before fashionably flaring out toward his ankles. His oxfords a polished warm brown. He had put a warm coat on as well, hoping to keep out the chill on the way to his childhood home. Harry was similarly dressed, with the exception of his shirt being a faint shade of yellow, and his shoes a midnight blue.

By the time they had walked the block, Barb’s nose had turned a soft shade of rose, and tiny snowflakes began to drift from the sky. Louis wasn’t sure whether they would stick or not, it had been cold but not more than usual. It was the first snowfall of the winter, and Louis could only hope it stayed through the night. Snow on his birthday was the best gift he could ask for, and having a white Christmas, his first with Harry back, was icing on the cake. Plus the thought of making a snowman on the lawn like a proper family tomorrow after presents was more than Louis could’ve ever asked for.

Harry knocked on the door, as Louis held Barbara closer to him inside his coat. They could hear the celebrations commencing inside, carols being sung along to from the radio, the gleeful shrieks of children reaching them through the walls. Jo opened the door, quickly stepping out to pull Harry into a tight hug.

“Hello, Harry!” Jo said as she squeezed him extra tight. “Head on in young man, take a seat by the fire before you catch your death.” She released him, turning her attention to her oldest baby.

“Louis, Barbara!” She shouted, placing kisses to both of their cheeks and foreheads. She pulled Barbara from Louis’ arms shooing him into her oven-warmed house.

She deposited Barbara in the parlour with the rest of her children, asking Lottie to keep on eye on her.

After making sure everything was in place, Jo moved back to the kitchen only to see Louis at the already set dining table, and Harry in the kitchen.

“Harry,” Jo said sternly, her finger pointing at him accusingly, “what are you doing in here? You should be in the living room celebrating, not in here.”

Harry ducked his head, his cheeks pinking under the admonishment. “I’d rather be in here helping you, Jo. You know I love to cook, so you might as well put me to work. It’s the least I can do after you invited me into your home.”

With a disappointed clucking noise, Jo picked up a colander full of potatoes. “Go grab you a chair and come peel these potatoes. No sense in you standing up for ages when you can sit.”

Harry followed her directions without complaint. He knew she was only doing it, so as not to overwork his leg. Usually he would have bristled at the accusation that he could not stand and work, but with Jo, he knew it was just motherly affection. She just wanted the best for him, and he couldn’t begrudge her, especially after she welcomed him into her home.

The duo continued to skillfully prepare the dinner that they would later consume. They joked and gossiped, talking about the best ways to put a child to sleep, or get a stain out of cotton. Louis continued to sit at the table, watching his mum and Harry command the kitchen. He couldn’t believe how easy it was for Harry to joke and laugh with Jo, as though no time at all had passed. By the time all the prep work had been done, Jo had shooed them both to the parlour.

“I’ve still got presents to wrap, so go ahead and entertain the girls. I need them distracted while I work.” She said, leaving them with a kiss to the tops of their heads, though they had to lean down to receive them.

“Come on, Haz let’s go see how many times we can sing _Here Comes Santa Claus_ before Fizzy socks me in the gut.” Louis grabbed onto Harry’s free hand, tugging lightly in mock rush.

Upon entering the lounge, Harry sees that all the seats are taken. He moves to sit on the floor before feeling a sharp tug to the back of his tucked in shirt. He turns to see Lottie, motioning to the newly open couch cushion where Félicité had been seated previously. He grins in thanks, taking a seat that would be infinitely easier to get up from than the floor.

He easily grabs the attention of Ernest, who quickly begins to move toward Harry. He makes grabby hands at him, so Harry pulls him up with ease.

“Hello, little man.” He says while bouncing the toddler easily on his good leg. Ernest makes a happy gurgling noise, reaching his chubby fingers out to touch Harry’s hair. It isn’t quite as long as he’d kept it in his youth, but it was long enough to curl happily around his head. He’d been growing it out since he’d been injured, not enjoying the regulation buzz he’d had for so long. It kept his hair stick straight, and he hated it.

Ernest tugs roughly on the curls, smiling happily as Harry winces subtly. “Matchy, matchy,” the young boy says, munching on one of his own long baby curls. Harry smiles back at Ernie, nodding his head along.

“Yeah, we’re a couple of peas in a pod aren’t we?” He replies, winking exaggeratedly at the boy. After a moment they begin to talk, Harry listening as Ernest discusses his favorite toys.

Louis watches all this with a fond heart. Harry was such a sweet man: helping his Mum in the kitchen before entertaining the ever grouchy Ernest. How he ever got to be lucky enough to be this close to Harry he’ll never know. He figures he must have been exceptionally kind and courageous in a past life to earn the privilege of Harry’s affection. He continues to watch as Harry attracts the other twin, Doris quickly taking up Harry’s other arm. The twins babble in their own language, and sweet Harry nods along as if he’s fluent.

It’s almost more than Louis’ heart can bear, squeezing painfully in his chest at how precious the scene is. After a moment, his Mum returns, beckoning them all to supper. Harry and Louis sit beside each other, across from Lottie and Fizzy, Jo saying grace as they all bow their heads.

The meal is delicious, everyone praising Harry and Jo for their hard work in the kitchen. Louis gives an affectionate ruffle to Harry’s curls in thanks. The youngest siblings, shovel their food into their mouths, in hopes that eating quickly will mean getting to open their gifts quicker. Jo admonishes them, but it does little to deter them.

After dinner, the family returns to the parlour, where the Christmas tree has been waiting for them. Not all of the presents are under it though, some have been left in Jo’s room for Santa to place in the middle of the night.

Presents are handed out, each person opening the few gifts they’ve received. Harry watches as the Tomlinson’s open their gifts, hugging the people who gave them exceptionally good ones. He hadn’t been able to give any big gifts, opting for cheap easy things that he could make himself or pick up at the market. It isn’t much, but he feels it’s the least he could do for intruding into their family festivities. He has no gifts to open himself, which is very similar to the last five Christmases he had spent abroad. He wasn’t expecting any gifts, so he’s not disappointed at all. In fact, he’s only grateful that he was allowed to come at all. Being surrounded by the lovely family he’d always found more loving than his own, was the best gift he could have asked for.

Louis watches Harry closely, wondering how Harry can look so happy just to be in their company. He has no gifts of his own to open, only watching as the everyone shows off the new presents they’d received. Louis felt bad that Harry had no presents to open, the one he’d bought him waiting under their tree at home. Despite it all, Harry had such a blissful expression, helping the younger ones with the wrapping paper.

He was a lucky man, to have such a lovely friend at his side. And if they ever found themselves back in love, he’d be the luckiest man on earth without a doubt.

~~~

Louis wakes with a start, his body racing with adrenaline, though he can’t be sure why yet. Before he can get his bearings back from sleep, he hears a loud shriek, and he immediately jumps out of bed. He slips on a pair of pants and a nightshirt, before running out of his own room. The shriek had been too low in pitch to be Barbara’s which meant it was Harry who was in danger.

He quickly burst into the room, eyes darting around for an intruder. All he sees, though, is Harry thrashing in his duvet, the sheet wrapped around him like a swaddle. Louis sighs in relief, seeing that it’s just Harry having a nightmare, rather than being murdered in their own home. The relief, however, is quite short lived, as Harry continues to kick and shout in his dream.

Louis isn’t quite sure what to do. He’s never seen a grown man have a night terror before. Hell he’d never even seen Barbara have one. Watching Harry beg and plead for help has him breaking into action. He leans over Harry from the side of the bed, using all of his strength to hold him down as he moves erratically. Harry fights against his grip, but Louis is stronger, his years in the mines coming in handy.

It takes at least three minutes for Harry to calm down, still sleeping as soundly as he had been before Louis had arrived. Louis knew that Harry often had trouble sleeping, but he’d never seen him having such a debilitating nightmare.

With tentative hands, Louis began to untangle the blankets from Harry’s prone form. Once the blankets had been moved to a more comfortable position around Harry, Louis crawled into the bed, wrapping Harry into his arms.

He had never put much thought into the psychological effects war had had on Harry. Hell finding out that he’d lost a leg was almost more than Louis could deal with. Despite that, it seemed that war had a lasting effect on Harry’s mind. It struck Louis as quite unfair that such a sweet man, should have to relive all the horrors he’d seen over his years of combat.

Louis began to card his fingers through the curls on Harry’s head, scratching lightly at his scalp as he went. Harry had always liked that when they were kids. It was the most comfort he could extend the man considering the circumstances.

His heart broke seeing how soft and childlike Harry looked in sleep. The poor thing was only twenty-one years old, hardly a man at all. He’d had the last of his youth drained out of him at the hands of a senseless war. Louis couldn’t imagine how strong Harry had been out there without any word from home. He’d have lost his mind out there if he couldn’t have talked to his mum or the girls. Missing the birth of Ernest and Doris would’ve been awful too. Louis wasn’t sure how Harry had picked himself every morning and went about his business. Did he cry himself to sleep? Or resign himself to being silently sad, a stoic gesture of his strength?

Louis felt himself becoming more enraged as he considered what Harry had been through. More than anything, he felt helpless. He’d let Harry leave, baby that he was, and go off to fight Axis. He’d left him for dead, thought he’d lost him forever. If only he had trapped Harry in the cellar, forced him to defect.

It was his fault Harry was like this, his fault that Harry was missing a limb, and his fault that Harry’s life was drastically different from what it could have been.

Louis pulled Harry closer, hiding his misty eyes in the crook of Harry’s neck and broad shoulder. It’s cool in the room, and Louis blames the shivers that rack his body on that, not the sobs that he’s trying to suppress. He’s always been the loudest person in the room, and crying is no exception to the rule. His tears are running into the collar of Harry’s nightshirt, and his body is shaking like a bicycle streamer in the breeze.

He can’t believe that Harry had a nightmare and now he’s the one sobbing like a little kid. He hasn’t cried this hard in years. He feels like a blubbering baby, but he can’t help how upset the circumstances leave him. Nothing’s fair, and Louis hates it.

Pulling his head out from its hiding place, Louis wipes his snotty face on the inside of his own nightshirt. Trying to calm himself down, he goes back to softly finger-combing Harry’s soft curls.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” he whispers, continuing his ministrations, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop you. I’m sorry that I thought you had died. But, I think most of all, I’m sorry that I moved on and didn’t wait for you.”

Louis snuggled down under the covers, laying his head on Harry’s chest before wrapping an arm around his middle.

“You don’t have to worry anymore, though,” he whispered into the quiet room. “I’ll protect you from now on. You aren’t getting rid of me this time.”

~~~

_Barbara wasn’t even a full year old yet when it happened. Louis had been sleeping soundly, dreaming of Harry again, when he felt the sharp heat of palm to the face. He awoke with a start, his body shooting up at the shock of it all. In front of him was Betty, her hair was perfectly coiffed, and her lips were a startling shade of scarlet._

_“I can’t believe you’re still hung up on a_ guy _,” Betty spits in distaste at the word, at the_ thought, _“who left you behind years ago. You don’t even think he’s alive anymore!” she shouts, waking Barbara up in her crib. Cries from Barbara begin to fill the room as Betty points to the suitcases by the bedroom door._

_“I’m leaving you, Louis. I can’t live up to a ghost from your childhood, and I shouldn’t have to. You can find some other girl to fill your bed, because I’m leaving.” She walked over to Barbara, picking her up and rocking her, while patting her back._

_“You- you can’t be serious, Betty? After how long we’ve been together? You’re just going to walk out?” Louis leaps out of bed, tripping over his own legs as he puts on a pair of pajama bottoms. “We have a fucking child together, what about Barbara?”_

_Betty sighs, setting the newly quieted baby back in her crib. “I’m never going to meet a proper husband with Barb.” She leans down to place a lipstick kiss to Barbara’s forehead. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a new woman to watch her for you. Maybe the next one will ignore your_ leanings _just as I did.”_

_She places an equally soft kiss to Louis’ temple before hugging him tightly. “I can’t waste my life waiting for you to love me as much as I love you. It’s just not realistic, Lou.”_

_“Betty,” Louis sighed, reaching out for her hand one last time._

_He couldn’t believe she was leaving him, they’d been together for close to two years. He’d carved out a place in his heart for her, but he could see where she was coming from. His heart was full of Harry, and he was still hopelessly in love with the boy. It didn’t matter that he thought he was dead, until he actually had closure, he’d probably always be stuck on his first love._

_“I’m so sorry, Betty. I hope you find what you’re looking for out there.” He says helping to pick up the luggage that Betty had packed._

_He walked her to the door, where a car was waiting for her. He couldn’t be sure who it was driving it, but he helped place her bags in the vehicle before kissing her cheek in goodbye._

_He watched her car disappear, not even realize he was sobbing until he couldn’t catch a proper breath. Louis made the slow trek into his home, and up the stairs to his room. With heavy limbs he began to dress himself, packing a bag for Barbara as he went._

_His face was covered in tears and snot, his hands shaky as he picked his daughter up._

_He was once again all alone. First Harry, and now Betty. He was such a fucking failure, no one wanted him. It was a hard pill to swallow, but Louis had to keep moving if only for Barbara._

_It wasn’t long before he found himself opening the door to his Mum’s home. He was thankful the early hour, because it seemed his family was all still sleeping soundly. He carefully made his way to his Mum’s room, knocking softly until she opened the door. She took one look at him, and pulled him into her room. She plucked Barbara from his arms, placing her in the crib where Doris was snoozing._

_Soon after, she’s pulling Louis into her arms, wiping his tears, and cooing at him._

_“What’s wrong, Boobear? Why are you and Barbara here all by yourselves?” Louis begins to sob louder, burying his face in his mother’s shoulder. She leads him over to her mattress, pressing him down softly before joining him in the bed. “Please talk to me, honey, I haven’t seen you this upset since Harry.”_

_This only makes Louis cry harder, trying to make himself as small as possible, curling up into a little ball._

_“She left me, mum,” he’s wailing now, “She left me!”_

_Jo pulls him up into her, shaking him slightly. “Please calm down, Louis, what is going on?”_

_He recounts his morning, telling his Mum all the gory details. How Betty had left him because he was still in love with Harry. His mum sighed, unsure of how to help her son._

_“I’m not sure how to help you, if your heart belongs to Harry. But, I think that it would be good for you to mourn your relationship with Betty. Take as much time as you need, Boo, I can take care of Barb if you need me to. The both of you are more than welcome to stay here.”_

_Louis pulled his Mum into a strong hug, squeezing her as tightly as he could. “Thank you, Mum. I really appreciate this.”_

_She smiled, kissing the top of his fluffy head. “Of course, my love. I would do anything within my power to help you, sweet boy.” She pulls the covers from the edge of the bed where she’d kicked them earlier. “Come on, let’s get some more sleep, before your sisters come wake us up.”_

_He laughed in response, sounding choked off and wet. “Okay, Mum.”_

~~~

It’s warm, is the first thought that enters Harry’s mind as he’s pulled from sleep. He’s warm, and he feels safe. It seems that there’s a small body huddled around him, an arm laying across his middle. Harry shifts slightly, glancing around to try and figure out why he’s being spooned.

It doesn’t take long for Harry’s squirming to wake Louis up. Harry rolls over so he’s facing Louis. He can hear the soft groans the man makes as he wakes up. After a moment his eyes open, and Harry can see just how blue his eyes really are. They look like a perfect summer sky, and Harry could stare at them forever. Unfortunately he can’t.

“What are you doing in my bed, Lou?” Harry asks, still laying down across from the man.

Louis looks rather sheepish, muttering to himself as he rubs his eyes. “You were having a nightmare last night, Haz.” He sits up in bed, crossing his legs.

Harry follows his lead, mimicking his position. “Really?”

“Yeah, you were shouting and thrashing around. I thought someone was in the house murdering you!” He replies. “I had to hold you down until you stopped.”

Harry looks embarrassed, ducking his head. “Sorry you had to deal with that, Lou. I thought I was getting better with them, but I guess not.”

Louis reaches out a tentative hand, softly rubbing Harry’s arm. “It’s okay, Haz. It really wasn’t a problem at all. I was just worried about you.”

“I don’t even remember having the nightmare, so you must have done a good job last night.” Harry replies, leaning into Louis’ touch. “Usually they wake me up and I can’t get back to sleep, but I don’t remember waking up at all.”

Louis grinned, pulling his hand back to his lap. “Maybe you ought to stay in my room then?” He averts his eyes, worried he’s gone too far. “I mean only if you want to of course. I just figured maybe it might make it easier if you had another one?”

There’s a silent moment, and Louis can feel himself panicking. His heart racing, his mind racing faster. Should have left it alone, shouldn’t have pushed. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

“If you’d be okay with that, I think it would help. I’d really appreciate the help.”

Louis perks up at that, making eye contact with the other man. “Of course I’d be okay with it. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.”

They shared a grin, before Harry began to get off the bed. He pulled his leg from its place on his bedside table, and began to strap it on. After he’d gotten it perfectly placed, he pushed himself from the bed and into a standing position, slowly meandering over to where Louis stood across the room.

“You’re a great friend, Louis, I can’t tell you how much this means to me. You’re so [ dally](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.4fe0vtusl0ao).”

Louis climbed out of the bed as well, pulling Harry into a hug. “It’s the least I can do, [ fortuni](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.a9e9y4whrd9d). I want to help you as much as I can.”

Harry rested his cheek on the top of Louis’ head, his arms squeezing the smaller lad. “Just being back home with you is more than enough.”

The words hung in the quiet morning air, and Louis wasn’t sure quite how to respond to Harry’s genuineness.

“All right, enough sappiness for one day. Come on, we should probably get breakfast started for Barbara and get her ready for the day.”

Harry nodded, grabbing his cane from where it leaned against the door jamb. “I’ll take care of cooking, and you can go dress your daughter.”

Louis saluted him before walking further down the hallway to Barb’s door.

~~~

It’s almost Harry’s birthday when he finally receives a letter from Gemma. Louis bring it to him along with the rest of their post. He’s sorting through it on the couch, as Harry sits on the seat across and carefully opens the letter with a letter opener.

_Dearest Harry,_

_I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to reply to you, but your letter was once again sent to the wrong home. Unfortunately we are no longer living at the address on your envelope, but thankfully the new owners were kind enough to forward it to me._

_You see I’m living across town now, with my husband, Peter. He and I are the proud parents of two little boys, and we’d love for you to meet them. Little Harry and Edward would love to get to know their namesake._

_A lot of things have changed since you left, Harry, and I wish there was an easier way to explain all this to you. Mum was really upset when you went off to war, and the longer you were gone, the worse she got. You have to understand, we all thought you had died, Harry. And it broke Mumma’s heart._

Harry paused, scared to continue reading. He knew that his Mum had taken his departure hard, but he also knew she was a strong woman.

_Mum died of a broken heart in ‘43, and she’s buried here in Holmes Chapel if you’d like to visit her._

There’s more written, but Harry can’t bear to keep reading after finding out he had killed his Mum. The woman who had always held him close after nightmares. The woman who told him bedtime stories, and taught him how to bake. He couldn’t believe it. His selfishness had killed her.

He hadn’t even realized he was crying, until he felt Louis pull him up into a hug, mindful of his leg. Harry collapsed into his arms, thankful for the comfort. His sobs rang out in the house, and he was glad Barbara was napping so she wouldn’t have to witness his breakdown.

He could hear someone calling his name, but he was too out of it to even consider answering. His ears rang, and his chest heaved with the weight of consequence.

Louis carefully dragged Harry to the couch, laying down and pulling Harry down on him in a heap on top. He cards his fingers through the long curls at the nape of Harry’s neck.

“What’s wrong, Harry? What did the letter say?” Louis asks, continuing to coddle the distraught man in his arms.

Harry burrows his head further into Louis’ chest, muttering incoherently in answer.

“Come on now, fortuni. Tell me why you’ve got [ parnie](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.7so3vl9024ww) in your eyes?” Louis said, trying to lift Harry’s head up from its hiding place.

“Mum’s dead!” Harry wails, struggling in Louis’ hold, trying in vain to hide in the only comfort he has left. Louis keeps his head up, though, trying to pry more information from the grief-ravaged man.

“What happened to her, my dally boy?” Louis asked, bringing Harry’s right cheek down to his chest. He continued to stroke Harry’s hair from crown to nape as the man recounted what his sister, Gemma had written to him.

“I killed her, Lou. I broke her heart when I left, and then I never came back. Bijou, I’m the reason she’s dead.” He moved his head so he could look into Louis’ eyes. “I killed my own Mum, Louis, my own Mum.”

A shocked gasp forced it way out of Louis’ throat, his hands flexing in Harry’s hair.

“Oh, [ nix](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.72cmg1zda2fn), nix nix nix, Hazza. You couldn’t have known your letters wouldn’t reach them. It’s not your fault, filly man.” He presses Harry into him with as much pressure as he can from his position underneath him. “I’m so sorry, Haz, so sorry. I can’t believe Anne’s gone. Listen I’m here for you, okay? If you need a break, you know my Mum’ll take Barb. Tell me what you need, fortuni.”

Harry sighed, “Will you just hold me for a bit? Maybe tell me a story; I haven’t heard _[The Buried Moon](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.4p70w2wrdhhw) _ in too long.”

“[Mais oui](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.bk30px1uhftm), Harry.” Louis replied, placing a kiss to the top of the other man’s head. “I’d love nothing more than to do that.”

Louis spends the better part of an hour retelling the fairy tale. He knew that it was the one that Anne had told Harry and Gemma when they were younger. It was just spooky enough to make them hide under the blankets, but with a moralistic happy ending that made them feel safe and warm.

After he’s finished retelling the story, Louis hears Barbara calling for him, having awoken from her nap.

“All right, Hazza. I have to go get Barbara. Will you be okay by yourself?” Louis asks, placing a kiss to the top of Harry’s head, still resting on his chest.

“[Mais oui ducky](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.bhuxwh6h16lm),” Harry replied, carefully slipping off of Louis and onto the floor.

Louis shook his head affectionately before getting up and pulling Harry to a standing position.

As Louis walked up the stairs, Harry sat back down, pulling his letter from where it had fallen onto the ground earlier.

_Da moved away afterwards, and remarried. I know you two didn’t really get along, but I have his address if you want to write to him._

_I hope this letter found you well, and I’m glad that you’re safe in Donny. Do you have a home there? Any lucky ladies keeping you company? Feel free to give us a ring rather than writing another letter. I missed your voice, maybe you could sing a little for me?_

_I hope everything is working out for you now that you’re back and safe._

_Love you,_

_Gemma._

Included below the curly signature of his sister, was the phone number for her residence. Harry grabbed the letter in one hand, his cane in the other, and walked over to where the phone was. It was on a side table, with a pad and paper beside it for messages. Harry penned his sister’s number and her name onto the pad.

Perhaps he’d give her a ring in a few days. First he needed to come to terms with his Mum’s passing. He knew he’d be sobbing on the phone with Gemma regardless, but he wanted at least a semblance of having it together for her.

~~~

Louis was nearly at his front door when he heard the commotion coming from inside. In a rising panic, he quickly shoved in the door. He could hear Harry shouting out something, and Barbara crying hysterically. It put the fear of God into Louis, who took the scene in the lounge of his home.

He could see Barbara hiding behind the couch, her eyes wet and her face blotchy. Without much regard for anything else, Louis ran to his daughter, scooping her up into his arms.

“Oh, baby, are you all right? What’s going on Barb? Why are you crying?” Louis asked, his voice getting higher and squeakier the longer he spoke.

Barb continued sobbing, trying to speak but choking on how hard her chest was heaving. Over the commotion Louis could hear Harry shouting still, but he just couldn’t deal with that yet. Barbara took precedence.

He toted her up the stairs, rubbing her back as they went to try and calm her down. Harry seemed to be having some sort of meltdown in the living room, and Louis figured that Barb would be able to tell him what had happened.

He set her down on her bed, wiping the tears and snot from her face with his handkerchief.

“Please tell me what happened, Barb. What’s got you all so shaken up?”

Barb looks up at him, her blue eyes still glazed with tears.

“There was a bang,” she said, nodding to herself. “Scared Harry.”

Louis sighed, “What happened to you?”

“He pushed me,” she replied, still looking shaken up by the whole ordeal.

With a heavy heart, Louis lays down in the too small bed, pulling Barbara into his chest. She’s still crying, snotting all over his shirt.

He hasn’t seen her this upset in a while, and so he does what he knows best. He sings her a lullaby, his favorite from when he was a child. His mum had sung _[Golden Slumbers](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.5z6dus3s6k6j) _ to him and now he’d pass on the tradition with his own baby.

He sings it a few times in a row, watching as Barbara cries herself to sleep. It’s hard to sit here and watch the most precious person in his life so upset. The longer he lays there, the angrier he gets. He can’t believe that Harry would lay hands on his daughter.

That son of a bitch would pay, and if that meant Louis had to kick his ass out on the lawn then so be it. Nothing was more important than protecting his baby. Nothing.

He was going to make Harry regret the day he’d walked in that door so many months ago.

It wasn’t too much longer until Barb was sleeping soundly, her thumb tucked safely in her mouth for comfort. Louis had grabbed one of her stuffed animals for her to cuddle with as he carefully got out of the toddler sized bed.

It’s a bit comical the way he rolls off of the mattress, carefully catching himself on his knees as to make less noise. He quietly walks towards the hallway, listening for any movement downstairs. He can’t really hear much, which either means Harry has calmed down or left the house. Louis isn’t quite sure which he would prefer.

The stairs make ample noise as he walks down them, trying to warn Harry if he’s still waiting in the lounge. By the time he’s reached the threshold, Louis sees Harry sitting on the couch. His head is resting in his arms, his hand clenched in rigid fists around locks of his hair. He seems to be shaking slightly, small whimpers leaving his lips every few seconds. His back hard with tension as he curls in on himself.

He looks so broken that Louis almost feels sorry for him.

“Get up, Harry. We’re going out to the porch to talk this out. You and I both look like we could use [ three drags and a spit](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.1ittucaeojcb).”

With a bit of a struggle, Harry pulls himself off of the couch. His cane’s been thrown somewhere in the lounge, and he seems to be off balance as he walks towards the door. Louis sighs, reaching out to steady the man.

“Come on you oaf. You’ve got some serious explaining to do.” Louis helped him out to the steps, unceremoniously dropping him down.

“Is Barb okay? I didn’t mean to hurt her I was just trying to her keep out of my way.” Harry looks into Louis’ eyes, truly upset by the events of the night.

“She’s fine, all things considered. Just finished crying herself to sleep.” Harry flinches at the accusation, feeling worse and worse as they sit there.

“[Vogue us up ducky](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.5mio1sw3hvz2); I’m going to need to chainsmoke my way through this.”

Louis nodded, fishing a pack from his trouser pocket along with a book of matches. He handed the first stick to Harry, before placing one between his own lips. He struck one of his matches, holding it up to the end of the fag before taking a drag to light it. He then shook the match before handing his lit fag to Harry to light his own.

They were silent for a moment, each taking long puffs from their [ coffin nails](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.k4kobvpymqo1).

“So I’m not sure how much Barbara told you? But, we were just sitting down to tea when some loud bang went off. I’m not sure what it was; could’ve been an engine backfiring for all I know.” Harry paused to finish off his cigarette, motioning at Louis to hand him another. He lit the new fag with the butt of the previous, continuing to suck down the soothing smoke as he remembered the ordeal he’d been through.

“The doctor’s back at the infirmary called it combat stress reaction. Basically that’s the reason I’m so fucked in the head.” Louis nodded along, still milking his first fag. “Whenever I hear noises that sound like gunfire or artillery shells I feel like I’m right back on the battlefield.”

Harry turns to look into Louis’ eyes, still shaking from earlier.

“I was on the beach this time, bijou. It was awful, I had to get Barb out of the way, had to get her behind cover. They would’ve killed her, Lou!” He’s sobbing again, his voice becoming louder and more choked sounding.

Louis reached out for the other man, but Harry flinched back from him. His eyes a bit more glassy than they had been moments before.

“I’m so sorry, Louis. I understand if you want me to leave. I’m a danger to the people around me, the people I love most.”

With an angry scoff, Louis crushes the butt of his fag under his heel. He grabs Harry by his shoulders, lightly shaking him with the force of his conviction.

“Nonsense,” he says trying not to raise his voice too much, “You’ll be doing no such thing. This is your home too, Hazza.”

Harry pulls himself out of Louis’ grip, pulling another fag from the tin. He can feel himself coming back to center, back to normal.

He starts in on his new cigarette, watching Louis from the corner of his eye. The other man is staring at his shoes, rocking from heel to toe as he waits for Harry to speak again.

“We can’t control when and if this’ll happen again, bijou. I might as well just leave. Gemma says she’s got a shed out back. I’m sure I could get a mattress back there, so I won’t be any trouble.”

Louis barks out a laugh at the incredulity of Harry’s words.

“You know damn well Gem would _never_ let you sleep in a shed. She’d make you up the couch or give you a spare room, maybe. But make you sleep outside? Never.”

Harry sighs, nodding along, “you’re right. She’s too damn stubborn for her own good sometimes.”

Louis laughs again, pulling Harry into his side with an arm around his shoulders.

“You are a fine one to talk about being stubborn, dearest Harold.” He leans into Harry a bit, resting his head against the other man’s head. “Must be a Styles’ family trait.”

“I guess you’ve got me there, Boo.” Harry replies shrieking in glee when Louis shoves him over.

“Only mum can call me that and you know it, Curly. Don’t make me break out the embarrassing things Anne called you.” Louis says, wagging a finger at him much like Anne had in their youth.

“I miss her so much, Lou.” Harry says, finishing his last cigarette. “So much.”

Louis nods along, happy with the subject change. As mad as he’d been earlier, he’d already forgiven Harry. He couldn’t help who he was, and as long as Barbara wasn’t hurt, he could live with Harry’s war wounds.

“I know, fortuni, I know. Now let’s get back in the house. I need you to make me a list of the things that cause you to flashback, okay?” Harry nods, holding out his arms so that Louis can lead him back into their home.

“I’ll talk with Barbara tomorrow, try to explain things to her. Then we can both discuss what she should do in the event that this happen again, yeah? “

“Sure, Lou, anything.” Harry replies, still feeling the guilt of what he’d done to the little girl. “I’d do anything for her.”

Louis smiles, setting Harry on the couch before scrounging up a pen and pad of paper. He placed them in his chair before hunting down Harry’s cane. It had ended up underneath a side table, and Louis places it on the couch cushion beside Harry before planting himself in the chair to take notes.

After a few hours of discussion, both men head to bed. Harry insists on sleeping in his room despite how obviously shaken he still is from his flashback earlier. Louis rolls his eyes at the younger man, waiting patiently in his own bed until he hears the tell-tale sound of Harry snoring. Once he knows Harry is asleep, he goes to join him in case he has a nightmare.

He made a promise all those nights ago that he would protect Harry, and he’d be damned if he broke that promise now.

~~~

A week passed and they'd discussed Harry's flashback with Barb in a way she could understand, and so far things had been going very well. Barbara had always been a well-behaved kid, preferring quieter hobbies to running around and yelling. It made Harry’s life a bit easier.

Harry was happy that everyone was back to normal, and that he hadn’t caused Barb any trauma. However, all that being said, he’d noticed a dramatic change in Louis’ behavior and it was rather irritating.

He’d stopped touching Harry from behind, or really at all. Harry had always been a very tactile person, and this embargo on affection was wreaking havoc on his mood.

Not only that, Louis had been unusually quiet. It was almost as if he was constantly walking on tiptoes around a bear. Louis had never been a quiet person. Shit Harry could remember how many times they had gotten in trouble during sleepovers because of how loud Louis was. He spoke loudly, he walked loudly, he was just a loud man.

Harry appreciated the effort, but it was tiring for him and he couldn’t imagine how exhausted Louis must feel suppressing his own nature.

Living like this wasn’t sustainable for either of them, and Harry was going to put his foot down before it became a habit.

Barbara had gone to bed early, her hay fever acting up something fierce due to the season changing. Harry had dealt with hay fever since he was young, so he made her a cuppa and then sent her off to bed.

Because she was already in bed, Harry decided that this would be the perfect time to confront Louis about his odd behavior.

Louis comes through the door the same time as always, and Harry has his tea waiting for him at the dining table. It doesn't take long before Louis’ ambling into the kitchen to prepare his nightly cuppa and maybe a light dinner. However, his face changes into one of confusion as he takes in the ominous setup awaiting him.

“Am I meeting to discuss a treaty with the [ IRA ](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.twq7t5srgrvx)? What’s with the serious setup, Haz?” Louis asks, sitting down in the empty chair with his waiting tea.

“No you ridiculous bastard,” Harry responded, shaking his head and reaching for his tea. “I wanted to talk to you about how you’ve been treating me since the incident.”

The expression on Louis’ face is quite telling, he’s immediately jumping all over himself to understand what he isn’t doing well enough.

“If I’m not giving you enough space, you just have to tell me, Haz! I’ll be even quieter, don’t worry. Just tell me what I need to do for you, fortuni.”

Harry sighs, giving Louis a stern look.

“That’s the opposite of our problem, bijou.”

Louis’ expression morphs into one of dumbfoundedness. Harry has to suppress the giggles bubbling up at how puzzled his friend looks. He’s so genuinely confused that Harry takes pity on him coming straight out of the gates with the problem.

“You’re walking on eggshells around me, Lou.” Harry draws out Louis’ name like a whine, frowning at the other man. “Barbara treats me exactly the same, but you handle me with kid gloves.”

Louis looks properly scolded, hiding behind his mug as he thinks.

“You aren’t wrong, Haz.” He replies, still unsure of what this means. “I just don’t want to be the reason you have another one of your freak outs. I would never want to hurt you, fortuni.”

Harry reaches out his free hand to hold Louis’ across the table. He appreciates how much Louis was trying; the effort truly heartwarming.

“Listen, bijou, we talked about this. I’m a grown man, not a porcelain doll. I don’t need you to stop being tactile with me; I never had a flashback from you touching me, wanker.” Louis gave him an awkward smile in understanding. “The reason it happened was because of that loud noise that caught me off-guard. Your loud, Lou, but not gunshot loud.” Harry rolled his eyes at the other man.

Louis got up, leaving his tea behind as he walked behind Harry’s chair. He wrapped his arms around the other man, pressing their cheeks together.

“I’m glad you told me, Haz,” he said. “I missed touching you anyway. Plus I’m not sure how long I could’ve gone on being so quiet.”

Harry let out one of his signature laughs, loud and sudden, before clapping his hands together.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, life’s so hard for poor Louis.” Harry replied still a hint of laughter in his voice. “Sodding crybaby you are.”

~~~

It had been a mostly quiet day for Harry, and he had just finished dinner when Louis arrived. Everything seemed fairly normal. Harry and Louis ate while watching Barbara as she did the same in her high chair. The only indication of something being off was how snippy Louis was being. Short, clipped one word sentences were all he could manage, and if Harry hadn't known him over half his life he'd think Louis was mad at _him_. However, it looked to be a textbook bad day, and Harry couldn't blame Louis for being in a bad mood.

Harry made Louis a stiff drink pulling the whiskey out from the cupboard. He poured Louis a few fingers before heading up to put Barb to bed.

Once he'd returned, only slightly damp from bathing the toddler, he poured himself two fingers before taking the bottle with him to the living room.

If he knew anything about Louis, he knew it would be a long night for the both of them.

Louis was already lounging on the couch, his back against the armrest, legs barely reaching towards the other end. One arm was resting dramatically over his forehead, forearm pressing his hair back. His other was swirling the liquor in his glass like he was at a wine tasting. His tin of [ Player’s Navy Cut](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.h9p38tywcyi7) was open beside him, smoke curling from where a lit one was resting in the ashtray on the side table. He looked every part the film noir heroine he was.

If Harry had to look away, subtly adjusting himself, the other man was none the wiser.

He grabbed the lit fag out of the ashtray on his way to the only free section of the couch, pulling Louis’ sockless and stinking feet into his lap. He pulled a long drag from the cigarette, blowing smoke rings into the air. It was truly the only useful skill he'd brought back from his time deployed, but judging by the awed look in Louis’ eyes it was worth the trouble.

Louis readjusted himself on the couch, throwing back his remaining liquor like a shot before motioning for Harry to pour him another. Harry complied with a cheeky grin, waiting patiently for Louis to explain what had him in such a foul mood.

“Had a collapse today,” Louis muttered, eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Nobody died thankfully, but there's a lot of men in the hospital out of a job.” A twisted smile making its way onto his face.

“That sounds like quite the day, bijou. I’m glad that everyone is alive, especially you.” Harry says while giving Louis a pointed stare, still taking drags from the fag in between sips of whiskey.

Louis sighed, “You're telling me!” He picked up another cigarette from the tin before beckoning Harry closer. He pressed the tip against the cherry of Harry’s fag, inhaling to bring his own to life.

Before they know it, the duo had chain smoked their way through Louis’ entire pack, and drank half the decanter. Both men are pleasantly tipsy, moving closer together like they're orbiting each other.

“Remember how we used to sneak over to each other's houses in the middle of the night and stay up until dawn whispering about what we were going to do when we were both adults?” Harry asked, his eyes starry with the memories of being so young and carefree. “You were going to be a big smart professor, molding the next generation.” Harry sighed, thinking about it made his chest ache in a painful way.

Louis turns away from Harry, grabbing the decanter and chugging as much of the whiskey as he can until his throats aches just as badly as Harry's chest.

“We were the dream team, Haz. We were going to move away and live our lives together!” His voice is rising in pitch, and he forces himself to stare into the ceiling light, willing the tears in his eyes not to fall.

“I had to, Lou, you don't understand. After those bombs fell I was a mess. I thought that our families were going to _die_. Do you get that? I was just a scared little boy playing at being grown. I thought I could protect you all.”

It's tense and awkward. Louis reaches out a hand, tentatively placing it on Harry's shoulder.

“I think there were a billion better ways you could have handled the situation, fortuni. No one asked you to be a hero. No one was expecting you to be.” Louis tapered off, hand still on Harry.

“I'm so sorry, Lou. If I hadn't have gone off to war before I was even allowed maybe we wouldn't have been in this mess. You and me could have been living our dreams somewhere. We'd have a beautiful house with a cat and a dog. I could be selling pastries at the local bakery, but instead we're stuck here. Jagged shards of the kids we just to be.”

Louis pulled Harry into a hug, squeezing him with as much strength as he could muster. “Harold, I accept your apology, but you've got to know that we would've been in a similar situation no matter what. I got drafted after you left, and I'm sure your papers would have been in the mail as soon as possible. We were meant to be here, even if we are a bit worse for the wear.”

Harry ends up sleeping on top of Louis on the couch, the emotional burden he'd been carrying lifting so that sleep came easy. Louis, however, was not so lucky. He'd been waiting for months to apologize for Betty, and for not waiting for Harry to come home. But, he could never find the right time to say it. Tonight seemed like the perfect chance, but with Harry's apology hanging in the air it seemed cheap. He didn't want to take Harry's moment away.

It would just have to wait.

But Louis was going to make things right for the floppy haired man in his arms. He owed him that much.

~~~

_Harry had finally heard snoring from his parents, so he sprung out of bed. He was still dressed in his clothes from earlier, a button down and a pair of slacks. He snuck downstairs, checking around each corner for Gemma. She was his partner in crime, but she loved getting him in trouble more than she'd ever admit._

_He finally made it down, slipping on a pair of boots to wear for his excursion. He opened the screen door, being careful not to let it swing back with a thwap._

_It was cool outside, the season changing steadily from spring to summer. The air was charged, and Harry could smell the storm coming. It was the perfect night to visit Louis. The perfect night for his plan._

_By the time he'd climbed the tree by Louis’ window, the boy was waiting for him. He was leaning against the sill, dressed in only a pair of pants. His hair was still damp from a bath, and he was already turning a golden tan from the spring sun._

_He move out of the way, letting Harry slide his feet into the room. Louis grabbed a hold of Harry's arse, pulling him the rest of the way in. A soft thump resounded in the room when Harry landed, but it was muffled by the noises of little girls preparing for bed._

_Harry quickly slipped out of Louis’ grip, landing like a starfish on the other boy's bed. He had turned sixteen months prior, which meant one thing: he was nearly an adult. He'd been waiting for the perfect time, and today was the day, or rather night._

_With nimble fingers, Harry began unbuttoning his shirt, making quick work of it. Louis was still standing by the window dumbstruck as Harry pulled off his vest as well._

_“What on earth are you doing, Hazza?” Louis muttered, his eyes growing in size as Harry motioned for him to walk over. Harry’s big hands pulled off Louis’ pants with ease before pulling off his own slacks and throwing them into the dim room._

_“I’m all grown up, Lou. And I've got to say that handjobs just aren't cutting it anymore, big boy.” He pulled his pants off slinging them in a similar fashion to his trousers. “I've got my eyes set on bigger and better things. If you know what I mean,” Harry grinned at him, throwing an exaggerated wink his way._

_Louis let out a surprised huff, reaching out for Harry's face, pulling him in for a kiss. It was soft, more lips than anything else, sweet and over quickly. He crawled over Harry positioning his legs in between the younger lads splayed limbs._

_“You're a menace, honestly Harold. It’s still illegal, no matter your age and you know that” he said, tucking a rogue curl behind the other boy’s ear. “What would Anne think hearing her little boy begging for it in his best friend’s bed?” Louis punctuated his sentence by dragging his nose along the column of Harry's neck. The skin was still baby soft with almost no hair in sight._

_Next he began to kiss down Harry’s neck, careful to not leave any marks behind. Once he reached the boy's chest, however, he threw caution to the wind. He mouthed at the alabaster skin, biting and sucking until he left mottled purple bruises._

_Harry was trying to respond, half formed words and phrases escaping his lips. Eventually his mouth was just gaping open as soft, wet sounds left him._

_Louis cackled, looking up from where he'd worked himself down at Harry's hips._

_“Are you speechless, Haz? I've barely even started, baby.” He placed an open mouthed kiss onto Harry's hipbone before focusing his attention on the place where Harry desperately wanted it._

_He leaned up, left hand holding his weight as his right hand wrapped around the shaft. Then before placing the tip in his mouth, Louis motioned to his bedside table._

_Harry reached over, pulling out a tub of Vaseline. He cocked an eyebrow at Louis who was pumping his hand up and down Harry's cock slowly._

_“No rubbers?” Harry said, voice wavering from the friction._

_Louis shook his head._

_“Nah, sorry Haz. Vaseline eats through rubbers like acid. Plus do you know how many looks I would've gotten at the pharmacy?”_

_Harry rolled his eyes, “Big wuss.”_

_With an affronted glare Louis pinched the soft skin of Harry’s belly._

_“That's Mr. Big Wuss to you. ‘Sides it's not like we've been with anyone else.”_

_Harry sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “You sure do know how to sweet talk a lady, Lou. I'm swooning,” he deadpanned._

_In lieu of an answer, Louis got onto his knees, opening up the lube and coating a few of his fingers in it._

_“Uh huh, you're gonna be singing my praises in a few minutes. We’ll see who's the sweet talker then.”_

_Without any more discussion, Louis began to rub the tip of his pointer finger at Harry's rim._

_Harry's legs were still separated, bent at the knee. His arms were lying by his side tensely gripping into the sheet below him. He looked so on edge that when Louis finally pressed his first finger in, he thought Harry would combust._

_With slow movements, Louis began to explore the inside of Harry. When he'd done it to himself he'd happened upon something that made him cream himself, and he was hoping he could find one in Harry._

_By the time he'd worked up to two fingers, Louis had found the place to press to drive Harry wild. The first time he'd dragged across it, Harry had luckily had his fingers shoved between his teeth. He'd let out a muffled yelp, that echoed in the quiet room, and both boys stilled, listening for the sound of Jo or her husband to come investigate._

_After a minute of complete silence, Louis began to move his fingers again, eventually working his way up to a third. He moved his fingers around trying to stretch the circular muscle. Harry was a writhing mess below him, jerking and shaking like he'd been struck by lightning. Louis would have found it funny if he hadn't been palming his own dick._

_By the time Louis had pulled his fingers out, Harry was quietly begging for Louis to do something._

_“Looou,” he moaned, hands up and clinging onto a palmful of his own hair in anguish, “put it in me! Come on, please Louis!” Harry let go of his hair in favor of grabbing Louis’ shoulders. He pulled him down onto his chest._

_Louis moaned as his cock lined up with Harry’s, rutting into him in relief._

_“Can you be patient for even one moment, Harold. I mean come_ on _, I haven't even lubed up my cock yet.” Having said that, Louis stuck his fingers in the tub before spreading it over his leaking hard on a few times._

_He lined up the tip with Harry's hole pressing in slowly. It took a few minutes, Harry pausing him every so often to take a breather, but eventually he felt his hips press into Harry's arse. He groaned softly, holding as still as he could. It wasn't too much longer before Harry was bucking up into him. Louis pulled back a bit before pressing back in, a soft sound leaving his throat._

_Harry was meeting Louis’ thrusts, spurring him on to go faster, harder. Whatever he could get._

_“Oh my lord, Hazza, you're so bloody tight, I'm not sure I can go much longer.” He slowed down his pace, reaching for Harry's cock with his right hand._

_“I'm close, Louis, come on!” Harry continued to rock down onto Louis’ cock letting out half muffled groans as Louis stroked him with a tight and quick fist._

_Harry could feel a tingling radiating from his arse out, and it was making him see stars. He could almost taste the stardust on his tongue like a match being lit. He was trying to tell Louis what he was feeling, but before he could open his mouth, he was cumming. Stripes of it shooting over his chest and neck. He clenched tightly, causing Louis to let out a screech before slamming all the way back in. He shuddered through his own orgasm, arms collapsing as he fell onto Harry. He laid there feeling boneless, making happy hums into the sweaty skin of Harry's neck._

_By the time he'd pulled out and cleaned the two of them up all he wanted was to fall asleep in Harry's arms. Instead he helped him into his clothes and back out the window. Watching him trek back over to his own house was almost more than Louis could take. He flopped into his bed naked, his nose picking up on the scent of sweat and cum and sex._

_Louis could admit to himself that he was in deep with Harry, had daydreams with perfect weddings, perfect homes, and perfect children. At least he didn't have to worry about getting his heart broken. After ten years of friendship, Louis was certain they were fated to be._

~~~

Harry sighed, soaping himself up as he leaned against the wall. He had gotten pretty good at [ showering](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.i9z2p41j5ae9) with just one leg, and although he felt like a weird flamingo, it got the job done. He was just washing out his hair when he felt a shift in his balance, his foot slipping on the smooth flooring below him.

He let out a surprised shout, before sliding down to the floor. His elbow was smarting from where it had dinged the floor; his back which was already bad from service, was pulsing, shooting pains traveling from neck to tail bone. He must have made quite racquet falling into the bathtub, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to get himself out.

It was only a moment before Harry heard the sound of footsteps running across the floor. Then there was the sound of stomps on the staircase, before Louis was barreling in one hand on the doorknob the other covering his eyes.

If Harry hadn't been in so much agony he might have laughed at how precious Louis looked.

“Are you okay, fortuni? I heard a loud bang! Can I uncover my eyes?”

Harry rolled his eyes, sighing in exasperation. “Unless you've got plans to tote me out of here one handed I think you might ought to.”

Louis pulled his hand down from his face, walking over to Harry's prone form in the shower bath. He could see all of him, and it was the first look Louis had gotten since he'd come home from war. His muscles were developed, and with the water clinging to them, Louis could almost imagine they were in a different situation.

Louis mentally shook himself, eyeing up his best friend while he flounders at the bottom of the bath was not exactly the moral ground Louis wanted to be on.

“Here let’s turn the tap off,” Louis said, doing just that. “Now then we should probably dry you off. It's a bit hard to get a grip when you're all slippery.”

“Fucks sake, Louis. I’m not Barbara.” Harry muttered, rolling his eyes at the other man.

Louis shrugged, eyes trailing across Harry's body as he dries it with a clean fluffy towel.

“Come on, fortuni,” Louis said moving on to the man’s curls. “Let me take care of you like we're young again.”

That does something to Harry. He tries to think of anything else as Louis pats his hair dry. Memories flood Harry, and he can remember the first time they'd kissed, the first time they'd accidentally gotten boners, the first time they'd got each other off. It was equal parts erotic and nostalgic and it left Harry with a pang of remorse for the two lads that had been left behind.

“Okay, bijou. You can take care of me for old times sake. Don’t go getting any ideas though, all right? I’m a bit lopsided to be riding you like I used to.” Harry says, laughing cheekily as Louis sputters, choking on his tongue.

“Honestly, Harold, the things that come out of your mouth make me wonder why you weren’t a sailor as opposed to a soldier.” Louis says, exasperated by the young man in front of him.

With steady hands, and careful footing, Louis begins to help Harry out of the bath. It’s slow going, so many limbs vying for purchase, and Harry wobbling precariously on his good leg. By the time Harry is safely out of the tub, Louis acts as a cane until they can get from the bathroom to Harry’s room down the hall.

Louis leaves to retrieve Harry’s cane, giving Harry more than enough time to dress and contemplate the other man.

They’ve been living together for going on nine months, and Harry hadn’t been so at peace since he was a naïve sixteen-year-old.

Sure life was a bit different than he’d been expecting, when he’d gotten onto that train late last August. But, somehow the homey little place in Donny was better than anything he had imagined while away. He never thought that he and Louis would have kids, but being here was like a look into an alternative universe. Barbara running around with her curls flying in the wind, her big blue eyes reflecting Louis’ own.

Harry couldn’t be sure when it had happened, but somehow they’d made him feel at peace. Somehow he’d found his niche in the corners of their home, filling the pantry with flour and icing sugar. He couldn’t imagine leaving the two Tomlinsons, and somehow that revelation wasn’t frightening. They were his family now; his home.

Being with Louis made him feel like he was a silly little kid again, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to live without him. He was so kind and caring, and Harry was falling for him all over again.

~~~

It’s a quiet night, the trio outside in their garden. Barbara is a few feet away, watching the glow worms in the grass. May is having its way with the town, and the spring flowers have filled it with a soft aroma. Louis and Harry are sitting on dining chairs that Louis had toted out for them earlier. Light from the open back door bathes the men in tenebrism, only their sharpest features catching the light.

It adds a serious mood to the atmosphere, and if the shrieks of glee from Barb weren’t permeating the air, it would more than likely give a more sinister feel to the moment.

Both men are milking a bottle of single stout beer, enjoying the peaceful night. Neither men has spoken in the half hour they’d been outside, each happy to bask in their own thoughts.

Louis’ been stewing quietly, considering a pro/con list of whether now is the perfect moment to clear the air with Harry. He’s been perfecting what he wants to say for weeks now, and it seems the time is upon him. He’s just a bit nervous, is all. Not sure quite how Harry will take it, not sure if he should rather leave sleeping dogs lie.

Before he can really stop himself, though, Louis finds himself turning to Harry mouth open, half the words already out and into the air.

“Haz, I just wanted to apologize about what I did while you were gone. I really should have waited for you, and I know that now. Betty was never the right fit for me, but I’m so sorry that I hurt you. I’m so sor-”

Harry pressed a finger to Louis’ lips, interrupting him with a soft smile on his face.

“Bugger off, Lou.”

Louis face falls, he pulls back from Harry’s finger, feeling worse off than he had in months.

“Not like that, you ninny.” Harry rolls his eyes fondly, reaching out to hold Louis’ free hand with his own. “I just meant you don’t have to apologize for her, for any of that, really.”

Louis gives him an incredulous look, trying not to melt at Harry holding his hand, his big fingers doing things to Louis’ squirmy insides.

“You seemed pretty upset about it in August,” Louis replies, only slightly huffy.

“I’m over it, bijou. I’ve come to realize that she was an important piece of your history; I mean all things happen for a reason, yeah? Honestly how else would you have made it all those years without me?” Harry asks, voice only slightly cheeky. “Besides without her we wouldn’t have Barbara, who is very much the light of both of our lives.” Harry gives Louis a loaded look, before turning to watch the giggly toddler in action.

“All has been forgiven for a long time, Louis. You don’t need to feel bad for moving on with your life when you thought I was dead. If I had really been dead, I probably would have eventually gotten over it anyway.”

Louis lets out a loud guffaw into the quiet air, disturbing a few birds from their roosts.

“All right, Haz. I’m glad you aren’t mad at me anymore. Although I think I deserve a hug for putting up with your shitty arse. Honestly who tells someone to bugger off while they’re apologizing. Awful manners. Were you serving with the yanks out there, honestly?”

Harry laughs before pushing himself to a standing position, hugging Louis once he’s standing as well.

“You’ve got no room to talk about manners, Mr. Let Me Put My Pants On Every Clean Surface In The House.”

Louis slaps Harry on the back in retaliation.

“Okay, Mum, are you done naggin’ me?”

Harry glances down to look into Louis’ eyes, they’re beautiful, reflecting the starlight from above.

“Never.”

~~~

Harry felt refreshed from a relaxing day spent browsing the local markets. He’d picked up a few ingredients needed for a special pastry he’d found in a cookbook Gemma had gifted him a few weeks earlier, having been careful to save his rations since then.

He’d also browsed through the fabric and found a beautiful pale yellow and white gingham that he thought would make a beautiful dress for Barbara. He couldn’t actually sew, but he’d been begging Jo to teach him how, so he hoped this would be a good catalyst to make that finally happen.

Jo had offered to watch Barb for the day, so that Harry and Louis could have a day off. It was very sweet of her, and Harry had already planned on writing her a thank you card. He’d probably include a few of the pastries he was going to bake soon.

By the time he made it back it was still fairly early. Louis had told him he was going to try to nap and laze around, so Harry entered the house quietly, taking care to twist the knob while shutting it.

He placed his grocery items on the counter in the kitchen, deciding he’d put them up when he knew Lou was awake. He made his way up the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky parts. It was difficult to not stomp his prosthetic leg into the stairs with each step, but eventually he managed to make it to the top with little noise.

His door was open, as he’d left it that morning. This made his silent trek much easier, and he could breathe easy as he placed the yard of fabric onto his dresser.

It was as he was removing his leg for the day, that he heard a noise from the room over. He figured that Louis was waking up, and decided to give him a few moments before visiting with him.

Harry still slept in bed with Louis, but enjoyed the freedom of having his own space. The comfort his childhood friend provided when he had nightmares made such a difference in his sleep quality.

He was considering whether or not he’d like to take a nap himself, when he heard a whimper from Louis’ room. It struck him as decidedly odd, unless perhaps Louis was having a nightmare? He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn he heard his name from the other man’s room. He grabbed his leg, beginning to reattach it.

By the time he’d finished that, he had heard his name being groaned out a bit louder, and Harry was positive that Louis was having a nightmare. Pulling his cane from its resting place against the wall, Harry left his own room, heading towards Louis’.

With a bit of apprehension, Harry begins to open the door, wrist turning the knob with ease.

“Hey, Lou! You all right?” He pushes into the room, his eyes growing big as saucers at what he sees.

“Harry! Get out!” Louis shouts, body lying prone on top of his sheets, completely starkers, cock tightly grasped in a tight fist.

Harry feels himself walking farther into the room, despite Louis’ pleas, his eyes unable to move from Louis’ raging hard on.

“Lou?” Harry’s voice is gravelly and low. “Why were you saying my name? Thought you were having a nightmare?”

Louis picks a pair of pants up from the floor, quickly covering his groin from view. His cock still tented out the front of them, but it left him feeling significantly less vulnerable under the intense stare of the other man.

“I, uh- well,” his voice tapers off, still high and breathy from his previous activity. “I’m sorry, Harry.” Louis ducks his head, burying it in his arms. An intense feeling of shame and dread crawls its slimy way up his throat. He feels like he might vomit, but can’t bare to move. Can’t risk looking at Harry.

He feels the bed dip to his right, a warm weight resting between his shoulders.

“Louis, I just wanted to help you. Thought you were scared.”

Louis whimpers softly, still marinating in his shame.

“Though I think the circumstances are a bit different than I’d anticipated, the offer still stands.”

Harry lightly bumps Louis with his shoulder, pulling Louis’ head up with soft fingers.

“Let me help, Lou,” Harry mutters, “Let me take care of you like we’re young again.”

Louis shoots him a look, the man using the phrase he’d muttered only a month ago.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, his soul feeling too light for his body.

“You are much too good of a person. What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

Harry grins before kissing Louis’ cheek.

“Well, I’ll tell you this: play your cards right and I might end up as more than just a friend. Might be looking to make a [ bone](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LMdkXvHghCqqW9JmPNS04xBFs_UExKzGFL0UWMnVVaM/edit#bookmark=id.uw6maqagnuab) out of you.”

Louis’ head darts up, staring straight into Harry’s green eyes.

“You mean that? Not just taking the piss?”

Harry leans forward, his eyes crossing just a bit as he stares into Louis’ eyes.

“‘Course I mean it, bijou. I’ve been hung up on you since you protected me all those years ago. After all we’ve been through? You’d have to pry me off with a jimmy.”

Louis pulls Harry to him, rolling them over so he’s on top, straddling the younger man.

“Come on you good samaritan,” Louis said punctuating his sentence with a roll of his hips. “I’m in _desperate_ need of help.”

~~~

It is once again late August, but the lives of the Tomlinsons has changed quite dramatically in such little time. Harry stands in the kitchen cooking up a Sunday roast, Louis listening to his favorite radio show in the lounge, and Barbara drawing at the dining table. All is calm in the home, as they go about their business.

Once Louis’ radio show has finished, he meanders into the kitchen, joining Barb at the table. He glances at her art, each one featuring two curly haired stick figures, and one with ruddy brown hair.

“Wow, Barb! These are great!” Louis ruffles her curls happily before filling a glass with tap water for himself.

She smiles, blushing under the praise.

“Look, Daddy! It’s you and me and Hazzy!”

Louis grins, waving over Harry.

“Come look, Harry. Barb’s done a bang up job of drawing us!”

Harry limps over, staring at the pieces Louis points to.

“Oh my! These are amazing, Barbara! The likenesses are uncanny!”

The two men continue to praise the young girl, until Harry goes back to cooking.

Barbara leans over to Louis, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“Daddy, can I call Hazzy ‘Papa’?” She whispers, trying to be sneaky so Harry won’t catch on.

Louis mimics the girl, leaning into her ear in response.

“I think that that would make Papa very happy, Barb.”

Barbara smiles, her teeth taking over in an over the top grin. She slithers out of her chair, walking over to Papa, tugging lightly on his pant leg.

Harry looks down, smiling at the young girl.

“What do you need, pretty girl?”

“I just wanted to say that I love you, Papa!”

Harry smiles, unaware, for a moment, of what she has said.

“I love you too, Barb!” It takes him another few seconds before he’s turning back to the girl, lifting her into the air. “Did you- did you just call me ‘Papa’?” Harry asks his voice cracking.

She nods, placing a wet kiss to his lips. “Yeah,” she points to Louis, “that’s Daddy.” She points back to Harry. “And you’re Papa.” She then points to herself, “and I’m Barbara.”

After a few kisses, and a warm hug, Harry places the girl down finishing their supper.

Dinner is a quiet affair, and afterwards, Barbara is carted off to bed. Harry is waiting in what had once been Louis’ room, but was now their shared space.

Louis finally enters the room, joining Harry on the bed. Harry forces Louis to lay down, snuggling into his chest like he’s sixteen again.

“She called me Papa, Lou,” he says it like it’s a prayer, something to be revered.

“It’s because you are her Papa, fortuni. _And_ , she’s your daughter. All three of us are a big happy family, just like we were always meant to be.” He presses a kiss to the top of Harry’s curly hair.

“Just like we were meant to be.” Harry echoes, snuggling into Louis.

**Author's Note:**

> so i hope this was everything u'd hoped for, lunadiviners !  
> u can leave me comments and kudos to make my heart gooey. i'd rly a-pee-cee-ate it.  
> when we do reveals i'll add my tumblr where u can come talk to me if ur so inclined.  
> i had a ton of fun in this exchange and i look forward to reading the rest of the fics !!!  
> come talk to me on tumblr [@tippingbrandy](https://tippingbrandy.tumblr.com/)


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